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WHITEWASHING   JULIA 


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WHITEWASHING  JULIA 


AN  ORIGINAL  COMEDY 

IN  THREE  ACTS 
AND   AN    EPILOGUE 


BV 


HENRY  ARTHUR  JONES 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
London,  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 

1905 

AM  Rights  Reserved 


Copyright.  1904 

BY  HENRY  ARTHUR  JONES 

Set  up  and  eiectrotyped. 
Published  September,  190J 


THE    MASON    PRESS 

SYRACUSE     :     NEW    YORK 


PERSONS   REPRESENTED 

Mr.  William  Stillingfleet,  brother  to  Lady  Pinkney. 

Mr.  Samways,  the  Shanctonbury  lawyer. 

The  Hon.  Edwin  Pinkney. 

The  Hon.  Bevis  Pinkney. 

Charlie  Dobbs. 

Griggs 

Mr.  Elkington. 

The  Mayor  of  Shanctonbury. 

Julia  (Mrs.)  Wren. 

Lady  Pinkney. 

The  Hon.  Mrs.  Bevis  Pinkney,  the  Bishop  's  daughter. 

Trixie  Blenkinsop,  the  Bishop's  niece. 

Mrs.  Chayton. 

Miss  Fewings. 

Mrs.  Benbow. 

Rosie  Benbow. 

Meade,  Julia's  maid. 

Bryant,  Lady  Pinkney's  maid. 


ACT  I. 

Scene — The  Refreshment  Tent  in  the  grounds  of  the 
Bishop's  Palace  at  Shanctonbury  on  the  day  of  the 
Annual  Bazaar  and  Fete  in  aid  of  the  fund  for 
Curates. 

Time— June. 

ACT  II. 

Scene — Morning-room  at  Mrs.  Wren's,  The  Mount, 
Shanctonbury,  on  an  afternoon  in  August,  two 
months  later. 

ACT  III. 

Scene— Drawing-room  at  Lady  Pinkney's,  The  Hall, 
Shanctonbury,  on  an  evening  in  the  following  Jan- 
uary . 

THE  EPILOGUE. 

Scene — The  Refreshment  Tent  on  the  Palace  grounds, 
two  years  later  than  the  first  act. 


Note — Owing  to  the  length  of  time  required  to  strike  and  set  the 
respective  scenes,  the  Epilogue  may  be  omitted  in  representation. 


The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  play-bill  of  the  first  per- 
formance of  "  Whitewashing  Julia": 


Garrick  Theatre,  London 

Monday  Evening,  March  2nd,  1903 

at  8.  jo 

WHITEWASHING     JULIA 

An  Original  Comedy 
in  Three  Acts 

By  Henry  Arthur  Jones 


Mr.  William  Stil- 

lingfleet       .      .  Mr.  Arthur  Bourchier 
Mr.    Samways   (the 

Sh'ctonb'y  lawyer)  Mr.  Charles  Groves 
The     Hon.     Edwin 

I'in-kney   .       .       .  Mr.  Sam  Sothern 
The     Hon.      Bevis 

Pinkney   .      .      .  Mr.  Kenneth  Douglas 
Charlie  Dobbs       .  Master  Charles  Warren- 
Griggs  .       .       .Mr.  Albert  Sims 
Julia  Wren      .      .  Miss  Violet  Vanburgh 
Lady  Pinkney         .  Miss  M.  Talbot 
The  Hon.  Mrs. Bex- 
is    Pinkney     (the 

Bishop's  daughter)   Miss  Anne  Mildmay 
Trixie   Blenkinsop 

(the  Bishop's  niece)  Miss  Ethelwyn  Arthur  Jones 
Mrs.  Chaytor  .      .  Miss  Kate  Sergeantson 
Miss  Feutngs  .       .  Miss  Hilda  Rivers 
Mrs.  Benbow    .      .  Miss  Dolores  Drummond 
Rosie  (her  daughter)  Miss  Elfrida  Clement 
Meade  (Julia's  maid)  Miss  Freda  Bramleigh 
Bryant  (Lady  Pink- 

ney's  maid)     .      .  Miss  Margery  Fane 


ACT  I. 

The  Refreshment  Tent  in  the  grounds  of  the  Bishop's 
Palace  at  Shanctonbury  on  the  day  of  the  Annual 
Bazaar  and  Fete  in  aid  of  the  Fund  for  Curates. 

Time— June. 


ACT  II. 

Morning  Room  at  Mrs.  Wren's,  The  Mount,  Shancton- 
bury, on  an  afternoon  in  August,  two  months  later. 

ACT  III. 

Drawing  Room  at  Lady  Pinkney's,  The  Hall,  Shanc- 
tonbury, on  an  evening  in  the  following  January. 


ACT  I 

Scene— The  Refreshment  Tent  in  the  grounds  of  the 
Bishop's  Palace  at  Shanctonbury  on  the  day  of  the 
annual  summer  bazaar  and  fete  in  aid  of  the  curates' 
fund.  The  tent  is  of  whitey  brown  linen  and  takes  up 
the  whole  of  the  Stage.  At  back  arc  plants  and  (lowers, 
pt  in  the  middle,  where  there  is  a  recessed  opening 
with  entrances  from  both  sides.     An  opening  left. 

Along  the  right  side  is  a  o  >unter  i  t  refreshments  con- 
taining tea  and  coffee  urns  and  appliances  :  light  refresh- 
ments, cakes,  sandwiches,  buns,  and  all  materials  for 
afternoon  tea.  The  refreshments  are  rather  meagre, 
Shd  not  very  temptingly  displayed.  Stacks  of  clean  and 
dirty  plates  and  cups,  disordered  table  cloths,  refrigera- 
tors, buckets,  cans,  etc.,  in  confusion  at  back,  giving 
the  impression  that  the  fete  is  nearly  at  an  end. 

A  chair  and  high  stool  in  front  of  the  counter.  Bas- 
ket seats  down  stage,  left,  with  a  small  refreshment  table 
close  to  them,  with  cups,  etc.,  upon  it. 

Time — Half-past  five  on  an  evening  in  early  June. 
A  band  is  playing  in  the  distance. 

Discover  Lady  Pixkney,  a  lady  about  fifty-five, 
behind  the  counter  attending  to  cups,  etc.    Mrs. 
Chaytor,  about  thirty,  enters  very  quickly  and 
excitedly  at  back. 
Mrs.  Chaytor.     Yes  !     It  was  Julia !     (Look- 

A  I 


2  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

ing  off.)  She  has  gone  into  Mrs.  Blenkinsop's 
tent.     What  will  Mrs.  Blenkinsop  do? 

Lady  P.  I  was  lunching  at  the  Palace  yester- 
day. Both  the  Bishop  and  Mrs.  Blenkinsop  say 
it  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  know  Mrs.  Wren 
unless  the  Homburg  scandal  is  cleared  up. 

Mrs.  C.  It's  very  awkward  for  me.  I  didn't 
see  much  of  Julia  during  my  poor  brother's  short 
married  life;  still  she  is  my  sister-in-law,  and  I 
can't  not  know  her.  And  yet  I  can't  know  her — 
can  I  ? 

Lady  P.  I  wish  we  could  learn  the  truth  of  the 
Homburg  affair.  Samways  is  her  cousin  and  her 
lawyer,  and  he  must  know  all  a1>out  it. 

Mrs.  C.  Of  course  Samways  knows  all  about 
it,  but  he  always  avoids  the  subject.  When  I  got 
Julia's  letter  saying  she  was  having  The  Mount 
done  up  I  went  to  Samways  and  explained  that 
if  she  came  back  to  Shanctonbury  she  would  place 
me  in  a  very  awkward  position. 

Lady  P.     What  did  Samways  say  ? 

Mrs.  C.  He  asked  me  what  I  meant.  I  said 
of  course  I  meant  the  scandal  with  the  Duke  of 
Savona.  Then  he  asked  me  what  I  had  heard.  I 
told  him  I  had  heard  what  everybody  else  had 
heard.  Then  he  asked  me  what  everybody  else 
had  heard.  I  said  everybody  had  heard  all  about 
the  puff-box,  and  the  dressing-bag,  and  the  tor- 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  3 

toiseshell  comb,  and — wasn't  there  a  lace  dressing 
jacket? 

Lady  P.  I  believe  there  was.  Did  Samways 
offer  any  explanation  ? 

Mrs.  C.  He  said  the  Duchess  of  Savona  was  a 
madly  jealous  woman,  and  that  no  doubt  she  had 
placed  the  articles  there  herself,  on  purpose  to 
make  out  a  case  against  Julia.  In  fact  Samways 
pooh-poohs  the  whole  affair. 

Lady  P.  I'm  afraid  its  just  one  of  those 
affairs  that  can't  be  pooh-poohed.  And  now 
'Bevis  has  married  into  the  Bishop's  family,  I  sup- 
pose everybody  in  Shanctonbury  will  take  care 
that  I  don't  allow  it  to  be  pooh-poohed. 

.Mrs.  C.     What  do  you  intend  to  do? 

Lady  P.  I  shall  send  for  Samways  to-night 
and  make  him  tell  me  the  whole  story  in  confi- 
dence. Then  I  shall  decide  whether  I  know  Mrs. 
Wren,  or  whether  I  do  not. 

Enter  left  opening  Miss  Fewings,  a  lady  about 
thirty-five,  a  little  faded  and  sour.  She  has  an 
umbrella  in  her  hand. 

Miss  F.  (Excited) .  Lady  Pinkney,  that  woman 
has  actually  come  to  the  bazaar.  And  I'm  sure 
her  dress  must  have  come  from  Paris.  And  she 
has  dared  to  go  into  Mrs.  Blenkinsop's  tent,  and 
ask  the  price  of  some  little  blue  pinafores  that  I 
worked  myself!     The  Bishop  only  just  escaped 


4  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

her  by  passing  out  at  the  back.  And  in  my  hurry 
to  get  away  from  her  I  caught  my  umbrella  and 
tore  this  hole  in  it!  {Showing  the  umbrella.) 
My  new  umbrella! 

(Standing  it  against  the  table  left.) 

Lady  P.     Did  Mrs.  Blenkinsop  speak  to  her  ? 

Miss  F.  Luckily  Mrs.  Blenkinsop  was  serv- 
ing, so  she  was  passed  on  to  Miss  Lane,  the  new 
school-mistress,  who  doesn't  know  Mrs.  Wren's 
history. 

Lady  P.  Do  any  of  us  know  Mrs.  Wren's  his- 
tory ? 

Miss  F.  Dear  Lady  Pinkney,  I  gave  you  the 
whole  story  just  as  I  had  it  from  my  aunt — the 
puff-box.  the  dressing-bag,  the  tortoiseshell  comb 
and — the  other  affair.  My  aunt  was  in  Homburg 
only  a  month  after  the  scandal,  when  everybody 
was  full  of  it. 

Enter  at  back  Bryant,  a  ivoman-scn-ant,  bring- 
ing a  fresh  supply  of  cakes,  hot  water,  etc..  and 
a  dish  of  very  tine  large  strazebcrrics  which  she 
puts  on  the  counter.  Mrs.  Chaytor  goes  up 
to  back  and  looks  off. 

Bryant.  I've  brought  the  things,  my  lady; 
and  there's  a  dish  of  very  fine  strawberries  that 
Griggs  was  saving  for  dessert  to-night.  But  he 
thought  you  might  like  them  here. 

Lady  P.     Very  well.  Bryant.     We  shan't  have 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  5 

many  more  customers.  (Taking  out  her  watch.) 
Quarter  to  six.  Leave  those  things  on  the 
counter.     We  will  attend  to  anyone  who  comes. 

Bryant.     Yes,  my  lady. 

(Exit  Bryant  at  back.) 

Mrs.  C.  (looking  off  at  back  on  the  opposite 
side).  Julia  has  just  come  out  of  Mrs.  Blenkin- 
sop's  tent,  with  a  boy  carrying  some  large  parcels. 

Miss  F.     My  little  openwork  pinafores! 

Lady  P.  My  dear  Caroline,  she  can't  possibly 
-wear  them  herself.  (  Taking  out  telegram  and  giv- 
ing it  to  Miss  FEWINGS.)  Here  is  something 
that  may  interest  you.     From  my  brother. 

Miss  F.  (  Takes  telegram,  reads  it.)      From  Mr. 
Stillingfleet !     He's  coming  to  Shanctonbury  to- 
day !     Oh,  Lady  Pinkney,  how  can  it  interest  me? 
(Giving  back  telegram  with  a  little  confu- 
sion.) 

Lady  P.  (taking  back  the  telegram).  My  dear 
Caroline,  I've  always  felt  you  were  wrong  to 
refuse  Bill. 

Miss  F.     Perhaps  I  was!     But  at  that  time — 

Lady  P.  Oh,  I  know  he  was  up  to  his  ears  in 
debt. 

Miss  F.     I  wasn't  thinking  of  his  debts. 

Lady  P.  You  mean  his  conduct.  Yes. 
(Sighs  deeply.)  I'm  afraid  Bill  has  been  a  very 
shocking  rascal. 

Miss  F.     Do  you  think  he  has  reformed? 


6  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  i 

Lady  P.  He  ought,  by  this  time.  He's  over 
forty. 

Miss  F.  I  think  I  should  be  more  inclined  now 
than  I  was  to  look  over  any  little — manly  weak- 
nesses. Is  he  making  a  long  stay  at  Shancton- 
bury  ? 

Ladi  P.  He  has  finally  given  up  his  post  at 
Constantinople,  so  I've  asked  him  v  here 

until  Pinkney  returns  from  Australia.  Now 
think  the  matter  over.  And  on  my  side,  I  shall 
lose  no  chanc  lull  know  that  he  still 

a  chance  of  I  .  respectable  member 

'ciety. 
Mi—  F.     Thank  you — I'm  sure  you  won't  com- 
promise i: 

Enter  at  left  opening  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Bevis  Pink- 
Ni  th  straight  dull  sandy  ha 

;:.  lustn  .  thin  I 

and  a  til  rrect  manner.    She  is 

her  husband,  the  HON.  I'.iais  PlNK- 
N:  nty-Ave,  xvith  a  p  h,  author- 

itative, and  somewhat  clerical  manner. 

>  Lady  PiNKNEY  ).     My  dear  mother, 
will  have  to  take  up  an  exceedingly  firm  atti- 
le  with  regard  to  this  lady. 
Lady  P.     What  has  happen* 

Mrs.  D.  The  "lady"  paid  our  stall  the  honour 
of  a  visit.     Mamma  was  selling  a  large  red  coun- 


act  i  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  7 

terpane,  so  that  protected  her.  Then  the  "lady" 
had  the  audacity  to  come  up  to  me  and  ask  the 
price  of  some  little  blue  pinafores. 

1.7  si.  exclamation  from  Miss 

Few  [ngs.  > 
Lady  P.    I  hope  you  charged  her  extra  on  ac- 
count of  her  antecedent 

Mrs.  B.  I  simply  declined  to  see  the  "lady." 
I  merely  took  up  a  1  -'  woollen  gaiters 

:i  the  counter,  and  studied  them. 
Bevis.     Your  behavi<  >ur  was  admirable,  Sophia. 
1  u:Il  take  can  .  and  l*m  sure  my  mother  will  I 
care,  tl  are  not  SUl  lich  a  disagree- 

able  experience  in  the  future. 

Can  I  have  a  cup  of 

Mrs.  I ".  .     1"  a  fi  sh  cup. 

.  hind  the  1 
for  Mr  and  Mb  is  i 

Mrs.  B.   {■>.  strawberries). 

What  lovely  strawberr:  -  !  That  reminds  me — 
poor  Mrs.  r 

Lady  P.    <  laler? 

Mrs.  B.  The  new  curate's  wife  at  Saint  Rade- 
gonde's — last  week — you've  heard,  I  suppose? 

Lady  P.     Yes.     Her  eighth,  isn't  it? 

Mrs.  B.  Her  ninth.  I  believe.  I  promised  I'd 
call  after  the  bazaar.  May  I  take  her  these  straw- 
bt . 


8  WHITEWASHING    JULIA  act  i 

Lady  P.  Certainly,  my  dear.  Her  ninth? 
Take  her  some  cream  as  well. 

Mrs.  B.  Thank  you.  (To  Mrs.  Chaytor.) 
Will  you  put  these  strawberries  and  cream  in  some 
place  where  they  won't  get  sold  or  eaten? 

Mrs.  C.  (taking  up  the  strawberries  and 
cream).  Yes!  Let  me  see !  (Looking  about.) 
I'll  put  them  here  under  the  counter.  (Placing 
them  under  counter.)  Nobody  will  get  at  them 
there. 

Mrs.  B.  Thank  you.  I'll  call  for  them  after 
the  bazaar,  and  take  them  to  poor  Mrs.  Gak-r. 

Bevis.  Ah  !  What  a  contrast  Mrs.  Galer  pre- 
sents to  the  other  lady. 

Lady  P.  To  Mrs.  Wren?  Yes,  one  has  a 
scandal  with  a  foreign  royal  duke,  and  the  other 
has  nine  children  to  a  starving  curate.  Very  care- 
less, foolish  women,  both  of  them  !  I  don't  know 
which  is  most  to  blame  ! 

Bevis.  {reprovingly).  I'm  sorry  you  regard 
this  as  a  subject  for  a  jest. 

(Mr.  Sam  ways  puts  his  head  in  at  back, 
a)id  is  about  to  withdraw.  He  is  an 
old-fashioned  country  lawyer,  about 
sixty-five,  dry,  shrewd,  clever.) 

Lady  P.  (seeing  him).  Ah,  Mr.  Samways ! 
Don't  go!     You're  just  the  person  we  want. 

Samways  (cojni)ig  in  reluctantly).  How  d'ye 
do,  Lady  Pinkney?  (Shaking  hands.) 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  9 

Lady  P.  So  your  cousin,  Mr?.  Wren,  is  back 
in  Shanctonbury  ? 

Sam  ways.  {Uncomfortable).  My  second 
cousin  !     Yes,  poor  dear  girl. 

Bevis.     Are  you  aware  if  she  intends  to  remain  ? 

Sam  ways.    Well — yes — perhaps  for  some  time. 

Bevis.     Not  under  your  advice,  I  trust? 

Samways  {getting  more  uncomfortable). 
Well — I'm  afraid  I  am  in  some  measure  respon- 
sible. When  she  consulted  me,  I  said,  "My  dear 
Julia,  of  course  everybody  understands  your  nat- 
ural delicacy " 

Bevis.     Delicacy  ? ! 

Samways.     "In  staying  away  from  Shancton- 
bury and  your  old  friends,  while  these  stories  were 
•  being    freshly    circulated.     But    now    that    three 
years  have  past,  and  nobody  belie\es  them " 

Mrs.  B.     Nobody  believes  them?! 

Samways.  Nobody  who  knows  the  circum- 
stances. 

Lady  P.  But,  Samways,  who  does  know  the 
circumstances  ? 

(Samways  looks  very  uncomfortable.) 

Bevis.  Has  Mrs.  Wren  taken  any  steps  to  re- 
fute these  stories? 

Samways.  No,  no — she  came  to  me  three 
years  ago,  and  asked  me  what  to  do,  and  I  said 
"Do?  Nothing!  Remain  perfectly  silent.  Your 
own  reputation  is  a  sufficient  answer." 


io  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

Mrs.  F.  Nobody's  reputation  could  be  a  suffi- 
cient answer  to  the  puff-box,  and  the — the — other 
articles 

Samways.  Oh,  pardon  me,  Miss  Fewings. 
I'm  sure  your  reputation  would  be  a  sufficient 
answer;  and  I  humbly  trust  that  my  reputation 
would  be  a  sufficient  answer  to  any  puff-box. 

Lady  P.  Then  you  honestly  believe,  Samways, 
that  these  stories  against  Mrs.  Wren  are  false? 

Samways.  (  Most  uncomfortable.)  My  dear 
Lady  Pinkney,  I  am  Mrs.  Wren's  legal  adviser,  as 
I  am  yours,  and  Lord  Pinkney's.  {Gaining  as- 
surance as  he  goes  on.)  And  I  can  only  say  that 
were  any  defamatory  story  circulated  against  you, 
or  against  any  lady  here  present,  I  should  defend 
you  all  with  the  same  conviction  of  your  inno- 
cence {catches  Mrs.  Bevis's  eye  and  falters),  that 
I  cherish  with  regard  to — a — this  very  dear,  and 
I  will  say  this  very  much  injured  lady.  (Glanc- 
ing out  of  the  tent  opening.)  The  weather  seems 
a  little  threatening  again.  {Moving  to  get  out  of 
tent.) 

Lady  P.  (calling  him  back).     But,  Samwa; 
you  must  see  it's  impossible  for  us  to  receive  Mrs. 
Wren  until  we  know  the  truth  of  this  business. 

Samways.  Certainly !  And  if  I  can  be  of  any 
use (Going  off  at  back.) 

Lady  P.  (calling  him  back).  Are  you  engaged 
for  dinner  to-night  ? 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  u 

Sam  ways.     Xo — at  least 

Lady  P.  We  shall  expect  you  at  eight,  and  you 
shall  give  us  the  correct  version  of  the  whole 
affair,  and  set  our  minds  at  rest.  And  then  I  hope 
we  shall  be  able  to  take  this  very  dear,  and  this 
very  much  injured  lady  to  our  hearts  and  homes 
again.  (Sam ways  looks  very  uncomfortable.) 
At  eight  then  ? 

Sam  ways.     Delighted — delighted. 

(Exit,  very  uncomfortable,  at  back.) 

Miss  F.  Samways  means  to  help  her  to 
wriggle  out  of  it. 

Bevis.  We  must  take  care  she  doesn't.  We 
must  insist  upon  evidence. 

Mrs.  B.  I  really  don't  see  the  need  for  evi- 
dence when  one  has  already  made  up  one's  mind. 

Miss  F.  Quite  so.  Evidence  merely  confuses 
and  unsettles  one.  It's  so  much  better  to  have  a 
firm,  steady  conviction  from  the  first,  and  never 
change  it. 

Enter,  at  back,  Trixie  Blexkixsop,  a  bright,  ex- 
citable girl  of  about  seventeen. 

Lady  P.  My  dear  Trixie,  how  is  it  you  have 
left  vour  stall  ? 

Trixie.  Sold  out !  There  was  such  a  pretty 
woman  in  pale  blue  came  and  bought  up  all  my 
rubbish. 

Miss  F.  (to  Lady  Pixkxey).     Mrs.  Wren! 


12  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

Trixie.  Yes,  that's  her  name !  I  did  stick  on 
the  prices  at  first.     You  know  that  awful  green 

antimacassar    thing (Stops,    seeing    Mrs. 

Bevis's  face.) 

Mrs.  B.     Mamma  worked  that ! 

Trixie.  Yes,  I  know  she  did.  But  because 
she's  your  mother  and  my  aunt  doesn't  make  her 
antimacassars  not  awful.  It  is  awful!  And  I 
rooked  Mrs.  Wren  out  of  two  guineas  for  it.  I 
rooked  her  over  heaps  of  other  things;  but  when 
I  saw  what  a  nice  dear  thing  she  was,  my  better 
nature  prevailed,  and  I  owned  up  I'd  been  swin- 
dling her.  And  she  forgave  me,  and  I  promised 
I'd  go  and  have  tea  with  her  on  Sunday. 

(General  consternation.     Lady  Pixkxey 
silences  the  others  with  a  gesture.) 

Trixie.     What's  the  matter? 

Lady  P.     Nothing,  my  dear.     How  was  it  that 
were    at    your    stall    alone?     Your    cousin 
incing  at  Mrs.  Bevis)  and  my  son  Edwin  were 
to  take  charge  of  you? 

Trixie.     I  had  a  furious  row  with  Sophie,  and 
worried  her  back  to  her  mother,  didn't  I,  Sophie? 
i  Appealing  to  Mrs.  Bevis,  zelw  pulls  her- 
self up  ami  disdains  to  notice  Trixie.) 
Lady  P.     And  Edwin  ? 

Trixie.  Teddy  sloped  as  soon  as  the  bazaar 
was  opened. 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  13 

Lady  P.  Teddy  deserted  you  ?  Where  can  he 
have  gone?  (Glancing  at  Bevis.) 

Bevis.  We  may  be  quite  sure  that  wherever 
Teddy  is,  it  is  somewhere  he  ought  not  to  be ;  and 
whatever  he  is  doing,  it  is  something  he  ought  not 
to  be  doing. 

Lady  P.  Did  your  aunt  see  you  serving  this 
very  charming  lady  ? 

Trixie.  No,  I  had  a  furious  row  with  auntie 
just  after  lunch,  and  she  told  me  not  to  see  her  or 
speak  to  her  again  all  day. 

(Lady  Pixkxey  turns  with  a  gesture  of 
despair  to  Mrs.  Bevis.) 
Mrs.  B.   {to  Lady  Pixkxey).     She's  simply 
unbearable ! 

(Miss  Fewixgs,  who  has  been  looking 
off  at  back,  suddenly  shows  great 
alarm,  conies  to  Lady  Pixkxey, 
d razes  her  hurriedly  aside  and  whis- 
pers something.  Lady  Pixkxey 
shows  considerable  perplexity  for  a 
moment,  then  makes  a  soothing  ges- 
ture to  Miss  Fewixgs.  Bevis  comes 
up  to  her  as  if  to  inquire.  Lady 
Pixkxey  makes  the  same  gesture  to 
him.  Miss  Fewixgs  and  Mrs.  Bevis 
go  to  back  and  look  oft.) 
Lady  P.     Trixie,  the  raffle  of  the  unsold  things 


14  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

is  about  to  begin.     (Taking  out  purse.)     Will 
you  take  six  tickets  for  me  ? 
Trixie.     All  ri.L,rht. 

Lai  iv      P.     There!     (Giving      her      money.) 
B     iSj  please  take  Trixie  over  to  the  raffling  tent 
Trixie.      I  know  my  way. 
Lady  P.  (authority  Bevis! 

(Miss    Fewings   comes  back  to   Lady 
Pinkney  with  renewed  alarm.    Lady 
Pinkney  quiets  her.     Bevis  is  /vy- 
paring  to  escort  Trixie  off  at  back. 
Miss  Fewings  makes  a  little  worm 
n.) 
Lady  P.     Bevis,  I  think  this  is  the  nearest  way. 
[Indicating    left,    with    a    little    look    at 
I'.i  \  [S,      Be>  Is  the  curtains  open 

r  Trixie  to  %o  out.     Exit  Trixie, 
left 
Bevis     You  see  it  will  be  necessary  to  take  a 
very  firm  attitude  towards  Mrs.  W'ren. 

i  Exit,  left,  after  Trixie.  The  ladies 
look  at  each  other,  and  there  is  a  pause 
of  expectation;  they  stand  in  some- 
what constrained  attitudes.  M 
Fewings  advances  on  tiptoe  to  back 
opening,  glances  out,  makes  a  sign  to 
them,  suddenly  withdraws  herself, 
stands  rigidly  indignant.  Mrs.  Ciiav- 
S  is  behind  counter,  takes  up  a  dish 


act  i  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  15 

of  cakes,  and  is  absorbed  in  arranging 
them  geometrically.     Lady  Pinkney 

calmly  sits  dozen.  Mrs.  BEVIS  stands 
at  the  corner  of  the  table,  left,  her  nose 
very  high  in  the  air,  intently  gazing  at 
nothing,  periodically  tapping  the  table 
with  her  middle  finger. ) 

After  another  little  pause  of  expectation,  enter,  at 
ck,  JULIA  WREN,  a  lady  rather  under  thirty. 
:e  is  very  tastefully  but  quietly  dressed ;  she 
always  perfectly  self-possessed,  but  never  ob- 
trusive or  aggressive;  her  voice  is  never  raised; 
she  has  soft,  winning  manners,  and  a  pleasing, 
Mattering,  deferential  air  which  has  nothing  in 
it  of  humility  or  subservience.    She  stands  for 
a  moment,  quite  self-possessed,  but  as  if  a  little 
puzzled. 

Julia.     I    beg   your   pardon.     How   d'ye  do, 
Lady  Pinkney?  (  With  a  little  bow.) 

Lady  P.     {Boies  stiffly.)     How  d'ye  do? 

Julia    (cordially,    to    Mrs.    Chaytor).     Ah, 
Geor^ina (With  a  more  cordial  boze.) 

Mrs.  C.  {coldly).     How  d'ye  do,  Julia? 

Julia.     I  thought  I  could  g;et  a  cup  of  tea — but 
(to  Lady  Pinkney)  perhaps  I'm  too  late? 

Lady  P.     Xo,  I  think  not — there  is  still  a  little 
tea  left,  isn't  there? 

(Appealing  to  Mrs.  Chaytor.) 


16  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

Mrs.  C.   (looking  into  the  teapot).     Yes — but 

nearly  cold 

Julia.     I  prefer  it  not  too  warm. 

Mrs.  ( \    And  verj  strong. 

Julia.     I  like  it  rather  strong. 

Mrs.  C.  (looking  into  teapot).     But  it's  really 

quite  stewed 

Julia.     I'm  so  thirsty,  I  don't  mind  its  being 
stev. 

(  Mrs,  Ch  \y  i.'R  pours  out  tea  with  angry 
ocquiesa 

Ch  \ui.ir.  Do  of  fifteen,  enters  at  back, 

burde  array  of  parcels,  very  badly 

tied  up,  as  if  by  amateurs. 

Julia.     Oh,  I  meant  leave  them  outside; 

at  least,  utside)   I'm  afraid  it's  going 

to  rain.      Lady   Pinkney,  may  I  leave  my  parcels 
here  for  a  few  moments 

1    m>v  P.     By  all  n 

JULIA      Put    them    there.    Oiarlie — didn't   you 
say  your  name  was  Charlie? 

Charlie.     Yes,  Mi 

Julia.     Th<  re's  a  shilling  for  the  raffle,  Charlie. 
Come  and  fetch  the  parcels  when  the  raffle  is  over. 

Charlif..     (  »h,  thank  you.  Mi  —  . 

(Hi  s  at  her  with  great  admiration, 

deposits  the  parcels  at  back — looks  at 


act  i  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  17 

her  again  with  great  admiration,  and 
as  he  goes  off  at  back,  throws  a  very 

languishing  look  at  her  unseen  by  any- 
one. I 

Julia.  I  should  have  been  so  sorry  if  my  pur- 
chases had  got  wet  I've  bought  some  very  sweet 
things — three  of  the  dearest  little  blue  openwork 

pinafores 

I  little  choking  gulp  from  Miss  Few- 
INGSj  who  has  been  standing  rigid  and 
indignant  at  back,  with  a  firm  resolu- 
Hon   to  hold  her  ground.    She  n 
\nces    indignantly    at    Julia,    i 
marches  off  at  back,  making  a  sig)i  to 
Mrs.  Bevis  to  follow  her.  | 
Mrs.  C.  <  behind  counter,  handing  tea  to  Julia). 
There's  no  cream,  and  that's  all  the  milk 

JULIA.  Thank  you.  {Taking  tea.)  That 
will  be  quite  sufficient 

Mrs.  B.  Lady  Pinkney,  I'm  not  wanted  here 
any  longer,  am  I  ? 

Lady  P.  Xo,  my  dear,  we  shall  get  no  more 
victims  to-day. 

(  Mrs.  Bevis  goes  off  at  back,  nose  in  air, 
making  a  sign  to  Lady  Pinkney  to 
follow  her.  1 
Lady  P.  (to  Mrs.  Chaytor).     I'll  leave  you  to 
finish  up  here. 

B 


iS  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

Mrs.  C.    Very  well.    I'm  coming  in  a  moment. 
(Julia  bows  to  Lady  Pinkney  as  sht 
going  off  at  back.) 
Lady  P.     I  Returns  the  bow.)     Arc  yon  making 
a  long  stay  in  Shanctonbury? 
Julia.    A  few  weeks  perhaps. 
I  vdy    P.     You  made  some  purchases  of  the 

Bishop's  niece.  Miss  Tnxie  BlenkinsOp,  I  believe"" 

JULIA.     A  few  trifles.     What  a  charming  girl ! 

Lady  P.  You  think  so?  I  understand  she  has 
thoughtlessly  invited  herself  to  tea  whh  yon. 

Julia.     She  wished  to  conv 

Lady  P.  Trixie  has  been  left  to  servants,  and 
she  i>  quite  spoilt  She  is  here  to  study  under 
the  Bishop's  chaplain.  I'm  sure  you  won't  en- 
courage her  t  nything  against  Mrs.  Blenkin- 
sOp'- wish 

Julia.  Indeed  no.  Pray  assure  Mrs.  Blenk- 
insop  I  shouldn't  dream  of  having  her  niece  to  tea 
without  her  consent. 

Lady  P.  Thank  yon.  I  hope  you'll  have 
pleasant  weather  for  your  little  stay  in  Shancton- 
bury. 

(Bows  very  slightly  and  goes  off  at  back. 
MRS.  CHAYTOR  has  remained  distatit 
and  cold  behind  the  counter. ) 

Julia.  You're  looking  wonderfully  well, 
Georgina.     (Mrs.    Chaytor   takes   no    notice — 


act  i  win  n:\v.\SHiNG  julia 


19 


pause.)     I've  been  a  week  at  the  Mount,  and  you 
haven't  called. 

Mrs.  C.  My  dear  Julia,  how  could  I?  (Very 
curtly.)     Do  you  want  any  more  tea? 

Julia.     No,  thank  you.     How's  Frank? 

Mrs.  C.  Mr.  Chaytor  is  out  in  Australia  with 
Lord  Pinkney,  looking  after  the  new  estate. 

Julia.     I  hope  he's  quite  well. 

Mrs.  C.     Quite  well. 

Julia.     And  yi  iur  m<  ither? 

Mrs.  C.  {curtly  1.     Quite  well. 

Julia.     And  my  poor  old  Curly-Locks? 

Mrs.  C.  Quite  well — No,  Curly-Locks  is  dead. 
He  got  very  mangy,  and  we  had  him  poisoned.  I 
must  really  be  going.  It  you  want  anything 
more,  will  you  help  yourself? 

(  G  off  at  back.) 

JULIA.     But  I  haven't  paid 

Mrs.  C.  You  can  leave  a  shilling  on  the 
counter.  (Going  off.) 

Julia.     Is  anything  the  matter? 

Mrs.  C.  Matter?  I  wrote  you  if  you  came 
back  to  Shanctonbury  you'd  be  cut  by  everybody. 
And  you  can't  imagine  how  embarrassing  it  is  for 
me. 

Julia.  My  dear  Georgina,  if  it's  embarrassing 
for  you,  what  must  it  be  for  me? 

Mrs.  C.     But  what  caused  you  to  return? 

Julia.     I  was  tired  of  wandering  about.     The 


20  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

Mount  has  been  empty  for  two  years ;  I  couldn't 
let  it;  I  couldn't  sell  it;  and  I  couldn't  afford  to 
let  it  stand  empty  any  longer.  I  came  back  to 
Shanctonbury  because  I'd  nowhere  else  to  go. 

Mrs.  C.  You've  made  a  false  step.  It  isn't 
that  I'm  strait-laced.  I  would  willingly  receive 
you,  but  in  this  world  we  musn't  be  guided  solely 
by  our  own  feelings.     We  must  think  of  others. 

Julia.     But — you  received  me  three  years  ago. 

Mrs.  C.  That  was  before  the  puff-box.  Of 
course  before  the  puff-box  we  were  ajl  willing  to 
shut  our  eyes  and  believe  the  best — especially  as 
he  was  royal. 

Julia.     But  since  the  puff-box — ? 

Mrs.  C.  Well  it  was  a  most  unfortunate  dis- 
covery  (SAMWAYS    enters    rather   cautiously, 

left. )  Ah.  Mr.  Samways,  1  was  just  telling  Julia 
—  Now,  my  dear  Julia,  take  my  advice — stay  a 
few  days  longer,  don't  seem  to  hide  yourself — 
you  might  come  to  church,  and  so  on,  and  then — 
go  quietly  away  to  some  nice  place  on  the  conti- 
nent, and  stay  there.     I'm  speaking  for  your  good. 

(Going  off  at  back.) 

Julia.  But  you  surely  don't  believe  these 
stories  about  me? 

Mrs.  C.     My  dear  Julia!        (Exit  at  back.) 
(Sam ways  watches  her  off,  then  looks  at 
Julia,  pulls  a  long  face.) 

Samways.     Well — what  did  I  tell  vou? 


act  i               WHITEWASHING   JULIA                     21 
Julia.     But  have  you  explained  to  them ? 


Sam  ways.  No,  my  dear.  Up  to  the  present 
I've  carefully  avoided  explanations,  but  I've  got 
to  dine  with  Lady  Pinkney  to-night,  and 

Julia.  That  will  give  you  a  splendid  oppor- 
tunity, won't  it  ? 

Sam  ways.     Opportunity  to  do  what? 

Julia.  To  prove  to  them — how  unfortunate 
I've  been. 

Sam  ways.  Yes — yes — But  (looking  sternly 
at  her  over  his  spectacles)  how  do  we  get  over  the 
puff-box? 

Julia.     The  puff-box? 

Sam  ways.     And  the  other  things? 

Julia.  You  can't  expect  me  to  remember  all 
the  details ! 

Sam  w ays.  Xo,  but  broadly  speaking  the  ques- 
tion is  this — Do  we  own  up  to  the  puff-box,  and 
render  some  more  or  less  satisfactory  explanation 
of  it?  Or  do  we  deny  the  very  existence  of  the 
puff-box?     Is  the  puff-box  a  myth  ? 

Julia  (falteringly).  Well — a — what  do  you 
think? 

Sam  ways.     (Impatient.)     What  do  /  think? 

Julia.  You're  a  lawyer.  You  surely  don't 
expect  me  to  teach  you  your  business  ? 

Sam  ways  (getting  more  impatient).  My  dear 
Julia,  do  let  me  explain  to  you  once  for  all  the 
nature  of  evidence 


WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

Julia.  Xo — please  don't — my  poor  brain 
could  never  take  in  all  your  legal  technicalities. 

Samways.  But  if  I'm  to  defend  you,  and  get 
Lady  Pinkney  to  take  you  up  again,  I  must  know 
what  line  to  take.  Now  give  me  the  exact  par- 
ticulars. 

Julia.  I  have  given  you  the  exact  particulars 
— more  than  once. 

Sam  ways.  Yes,  but  the  exact  particulars  have 
never  been  quite  the  same.  Now  let  us  make  up 
our  mind  once  for  all  what  the  exacts  particulars 
are. 

Julia.     Suppose 

Samways.     Yes? 

Julia.  Suppose  I  had  a  perfect  answer  to  all 
these  insinuations,  but  for  urgent  reasons  my  lips 
w<.-re  closed.     'What  would  you  advise  me  to  do? 

Samways.     I  should  advise  you  to  open  them. 

Julia  {reproachfully).  I  see  you  don't  believe 
in  me ! 

Samways.  Yes,  yes  I  do.  What  is  the  nature 
of  this  evidence  that  you  can't  reveal  ? 

Julia.  {After  a  pause,  mysteriously).  Do 
you  know  anything  about  morganatic  marriages? 

Samways.     Not  much — why? 

Julia.  ( Mysterious  —  resigned. )  Nothing ! 
It  doesn't  matter. 

Samways.     Morganatic  marriage?     It   won't 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  23 

do,  my  dear  girl !     It's  absurd — impossible  on  the 
face  of  it. 

Julia  (reproachfully).  You  don't  believe  in 
me !  It's  hard  when  one's  own  relations  don't 
believe  in  one.  (Beginning  to  cry.) 

Samways.  Come — come  —  don't  cry.  But 
now — this  morganatic  marriage? 

Julia  (mysteriously).  Have  you  any  law- 
books on  the  subject  of  morganatic  marriages? 

Samways.     I  dare  say  I  have. 
,'  Julia.     Will  you  kindly  lend  them  to  me? 

Samways.  Yes,  but  can't  I  sift  the  whole 
thing  out  for  you ? 

Julia.  No.  (Sad— resigned.)  I'll  try  and 
puzzle  it  out  for  myself.  I'll  send  my  maid  for 
the  law-books  to-night.  (Looking  at  watch.)  I 
suppose  I'd  better  put  in  an  appearance  at  the 
raffle.  (Going  off  at  back.) 

Samways.  But,  Julia,  do  let  me  clearly  under- 
stand  

Julia.  Don't  ask  me  any  more.  My  lips  are 
closed.  (Exit  at  back.) 

Samways  (calling  after  her).  But — Julia — 
(  Makes  a  gesture  of  annoyance.)  Good  Heaven  ! 
How  is  it  that  women  can  never  understand  the 
nature  of  evidence  ? 

Bevis  Pixkxey  enters,  left,  very  furtively,  and 


24  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

with  some  alarm,  which  he  tries  to  conceal  on 
seeing  Sam  ways. 

Samways.     Anything  the  matter? 

Bevis.  (A  little  confused.)  Xo.  (Samways 
is  going  off  at  back.)     Samways 

Samways.     Yes. 

Bevis.     If  I  wished  to  consult  you 

Samways.     Certainly 

Bevis.  (Glances  furtively  left.)  It  doesn't 
concern  myself 

Samways.     Whom  does  it  concerrf? 

Bevis.     A  dear  old  Oxford  friend  of  mine 

Samways.     Yes 

Bevis.     Are  you  busy  for  a  few  moments? 

Samways.     Xo.     Go  on. 

Bevis.     This     friend     of     mine call     him 

Brown while    at    Oxford   was   betrayed   into 

a friendship     with     a    very    undesirable 

young  woman,  and  in  his  desperation  he  came  to 
me 

Samways.     Yes?     Well? 

Bevis.  Seeing  that  the  poor  fellow  had  been 
led  away  I  promised  to  help  him 

Samways.     In  what  way  ? 

Bevis.     To a pay    the    crirl    and    her 

mother  handsomely,  and  get  them  out  of  the  coun- 
try. I  arranged  the  matter  for  him  and  got  them 
away  to  Melbourne. 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  25 

Sam  ways.     What  then? 

Bevis.  I've  just  caught  sight  of  the  mother — 
possibly  the  daughter  has  returned  also — it  would 
be  a  terrible  blow  to  ray  friend  if  these  women 
were  to  turn  up  again. 

Sam  ways.  Was  there  any  result  in  Brown'> 
friendship — with  the  undesirable  young  woman? 

Bevis.     Result  ?     No 

Samways.     Then  what's  disturbing  you  ? 

Bevis.  Nothing.  I  merely  wondered  whether 
these  people  have  any  possible  claim  upon  my 
friend. 

Samways.     Have  they  any  letters  of  Brown's? 

Bevis.     No — not  a  scrap. 

Samways.  Did  he  make  the  girl  any  promises 
— before  witnesses? 

Bevis.  No.  He  was  most  careful.  In  fact, 
I  believe  she  doesn't  know  his  real  name. 

Samways.  Then  Brown  has  nothing  to  fear 
so  far  as  I  can  see. 

Bevis.  Thank  you.  You  may  imagine  this  is 
a  most  unpleasant  business  for  anyone  in  my  posi- 
tion to  be  connected  with. 

Samways.     Yes — to  be  sure. 

Bevis.  On  the  whole,  however,  I  think  it  has 
been  of  some  benefit  to  me ;  as  it  has  taught  me  to 
be  very  strict  in  all  such  matters. 

Samways.     Naturally.     (Going    towards   left 


WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  i 

Bevis    makes   a    little    movement    of 
ml  him. ) 
Sam  ways.      Where   did   you   see   the   woman? 
Is  she  outside  now  ? 

(Bevis    makes    another    movement    of 

-.MWA-,  Ah!      B 

irmed. )     What 
Samways.     Bill  Stillingfle 

l'.i  vis.     M>  un< 

his    /ni»: 
I  |,,\\    arc   J  m«  hack  !      1  h  >\\      I  >u  ? 

Mk.    William    Stili  rs    left — a 

hat  mat  m  i  r  forty 

Ah.  my  d  .  how  u? 

kMWA\  hands   i  1 

' 

ill,     Bevis,  my  dear  lad, 
Bevis  Q    te  well,  than 

Stiu 

Bevis,     D  usual.    My  brother  and  I 

have  nothing  in  common. 

Still     Let  me  sec,  you  were  married  a  ( 
month-  My    congratulations!     Ybu    must 

present  n    . 
Bi    is,     I   :  Perhaps  I  may  as   well 

prepare  you 


-     LL.      No  bad  news.  I  hop 

Bevis.     Xo.     But — everything  was  very  lax  at 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  27 

tla-  Palace  in  the  old  Bishop's  time.  My  father- 
in-law.  the  present  Bishop,  and  my  mother-in- 
law,  Mrs.  r.knk  have  inaugurated  a  totally 
new  rigime. 

Si  ill.      Ah  !     Not  lax.  eh  ? 

r.i.vis.      No,   on    the    contrary.     I    needn't 
we're  delighted  I  u — 

ill.      Thank  you. 

Bevis.  You're  going  to  stay  some  months 
with  ns. 

Still.  Well — yes — it  the  new  ii.:mc  is  not 
too — too  bracing. 

BeviS  •  'i'  course  I  don't  wish  to  remind  you 
of  certain  incidents  that  occurred  during  your  for- 
mer visit         Shanctonbury 

'•    Still.     Well  then,  don't  remind  me. 

Ki.yis.      Incidents  I'm  Mire  we  all  wish  to 

buried 

ill.     I'm   sure   we   do — nobody  more   than 
myself.     We'll  bury  them  straight  off,  shall 
In  fact  we'll  cremate  them  ! 

(Sam ways    has    g(  ne    to    refreshment 
unter  and  has  helped  himself.     He 
inds    behind    Bevis    chuckling    at 
Stillingfleet  and  enjoying  the  lec- 
ture. ) 
Bevis.     In  all  serious:    --.  uncle,  in  all  sincer- 
ity, in  all  friendliness.  I  hope  you'll  allow  me  to 
give  you  a  word  of  advice. 


28  WHITEWASH  I  NT,   JULIA  act  i 

Still.  (;                   trds  him).    Certainly! 
Bevis.     You  may  think  me  presumptuous 


ii. l.     Nol     I'm   sure   from  the  tone  you're 
taking,  you're  actuated  bj  nuine  desire 

my  welfare — aren't  you?     I 
it! 

B  via     I  am  ii 

tLL,     I  v.  :'  it.     N  )  on ! 

If  1  ma)  give  you  a  caution,  which  j 
must  a!  in  inc 



ated  them  some 
minim 

sible 

ii. i-      M)  .   when  yon  cremat 

thinj  have  d  ith  it.    D 

raking  an 

In   an  to 

a  hat  alter  indard  that  i 

■    Shanctonbury. 
Still.     I     will !     I 
anxious  to  improve  other  people's  morals  than  I 
am. 

haven't  changed,  uncle.     I'm 
':   find  your  present  a   very 

congenial  or  Ixit  at  bac 

Still,    That  clammy  young         basn't  altei 

in  the  least     How  has  the  elder  one  turned  out? 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA 

mwavs.  Teddy?  We've  had  a  terrible 
time  with  Teddy. 

Still.     You  mean  the  dancer? 
mwavs.     Yes.     Teddy  would  insist  on  mar- 
rying the  K'r'-     VVe  had  the  devil's  own  jo; 

•  them — at  \:\A  Lord  Pinkney  dragged  Teddy 
off  to  Australia,  and  I  squared  the  girl  with  five 
thousand  pounds,  five  thousand  gold  sovereij 
l.i..     '1  tin,  isn't  he? 

tiwAYS  Yes,  Poor  Teddyl  1  like  him! 
"there's  no  vice  in  Teddy — he's  only  a  damned 
silly  sentimental  id. 

The  Hon.  Edwin  Pinkney  h  red  in 

ak, 

man  about  th.irty. 
Sam  w  AYS  is  m* 

Teddy.     Yes,   1   heard  that,   Samways. 
were  talking  about  : 

lmways  :.'.'v     disconcerted.)     No — I 

— a 

TEDDY.     (  >h  yes  yon  were.     I    recognized  the 
scription. 

MWAVS.      I'm  V'.  TV. 

Teddy  ( pott      S  \mwavs  on  the  shoulder  cor- 
Don't   you    fret    about   that,   Samways. 
good  to  hear  the  truth  about  ourselves 
sometime-. 

-  \ mwavs  makes  a  pro'  ipologetic 

:    re  to  Teddv,  who  turns  to  Stil- 


3o  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

LINGFLEET.      SaMWAYS    tJ\Cn   grins  at 

Stilungfleet    behind    Teddy,    and 
goes  off  at  i 
Teddy.     <  To     Stilungfleet.)     Ah.     Un 
Bill,  1  h  ? 

ml.     I [ow  are  you.  Teddy? 

i  Shak  ng  hand 
Teddy.     I'm  rathei  nt     I'm  aw- 

fully glad  you're  back  again. 
Still.     Thank  you. 
Teddy.     You've  come  just  in  time  to  help  me 

runt  ol  the  avalanche. 

Still.     Avalanche — of  what  natui 

Maternal  and  fraternal,  with  paternal 
rumblings  in  the  distaxi 

Still.  >rry — what's  the  matter? 

Ti  '  id  a  blazing  time  of  it,  Uncle 

Bill,  in  your  lit'' 

- 

ill.     II'  >\\ — blazing 
Teddy.    With    the   ladies,    I    mean.    You've 
gone  through  In  I  rows,  ind  cus- 

sedness,  and  misfortunes 

mi.      Yes  —  I  Sigh  Heap- 1      Heaps, 

Idyl     I  )     Wish  I'd  got  them  all  to  go 

thri  >ugh  again ! 
Teddy.    I  wish  you'd  got  my  lot  to  go  through. 

ill.     Tell  me. 
Teddy.     Thanks,    awfully.     You    don't    know- 
how  the  old  lady  rags  me — And  Bevis  I 


act  i  WHITEWASHING    JULIA  31 

holy  horror.  Bevis.  I  tell  you.  Uncle  Bill,  when 
I  look  round  on  my  brother  Bevis  and  all  this 
Shanctonbury  gang,  I  begin  to  turn  towards 
social  democracy. 

Still,    <  >h,  it  can't  be  as  bad  as  that,  Ted 

Teddy.     Yes.     (Maunders     on.)     Well,     the 

•  before  last  I  proposed  to  a  certain  young  lady 

— she  was  a  singer  and  dancer.     I  won't  saj   she 

all  she  ought  to  have  been,  but  I  proposed  to 

her.  like  an  honourable  man. 

11 1..     But  that's  all  past  and  done  with? 
Teddy.     <  >h  yes.     The  governor  and  old  Sam- 
ways  squashed  it.  and  married  the  gal  to  a  riding- 
master.     Since  then  she  has  eloped  with  a  book- 
maker.    So  I  was  jolly  well  out  of  that,  eh? 
Si  .1  1..      Lool  -  like  it— at  the  first  blush. 
ddy.     Well,  the  rnor  carted  me  off  to 

Australia  till   folks  here  1  tie  talking  about 

it — 1  hope  I'm  not  ' 

Li..  Not  at  all. 
Teddy.  Thanks  awfully.  I  knew  you'd  sym- 
pathize with  me.  That's  what  I  want,  sympathy 
— a  little  human  sympathy  !  And  I  came  to  you 
because  you  being  a  bit  of  a  black  sheep  yourself, 
eh? 

Still.     Well — whitey  brown 

Teddy.     You   know,   I    think   we  black  sheep 
ought  to  sticl;  together,  and  help  each  other  over 


WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

the  stile.     Well,  I  got  back  from  Australia  three 
month>  ago 

Still.     What  happened  then  ? 

TEDDY.  The  old  lady  didn't  kill  the  fatted  calf 
for  me,  I  assure  you. 

Still.     She  didn't? 

Teddy.  No.  1 f  it  had  been  Bevis  now — but 
Teddy?  Oh  dear  no!  No  fatted  calf  for  poor 
Teddy  ! 

S   ill.     Xo  fatted  calf  for  poor  Teddy,  eh? 

Teddy.     Instead  of  trotting  out  the  fatted  calf, 
she  tr<  ts  out  a  Miss  Trbrie  Blenkinsop,  the  Bish- 
.  and  Teddy  is  expected  to  fall  down  and 
worship  the  little  beast  and  marry  her. 

What  does  Teddy  say  to  that? 

Teddy.  No,  thank  you.  Bevis  has  married  a 
Blenkinsop.  '  >ne  Bevis  and  one  Blenkinsop  are 
enough  in  any  family.  Besides  (a  little  shyly), 
coming  over  in  the  boat  from  Australia  there  was 
such  a  hands  Jrl — 

STILL.  What?!  Teddy!  you  haven't  com- 
mitted yourself  again? 

Teddy.     No!     No! 

Still.     Who  is  this  jolly  girl  ? 

Teddy.  Well,  some  folks  might  think  her  a  bit 
of  an  outsider ;  but  she  appeals  to  me. 

Still.     How — appeals  to  you? 

Teddy.  Well,  she  appeals  to  me — she — ap- 
peals to  me. 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  33 

Still.     What  are  her  people? 

Teddy.  She's  only  got  a  mother.  The  mother 
ain't  exactly  a  jewel  of  the  first  water. 

Still.  Teddy,  this  won't  do!  I've  not  been 
quite  a  pattern,  as  you  know.  But  I  think  I  may 
say  I've  always  managed  to  keep  on  the  right  side 
of  thru  very  fine  line. 

Teddy.     What  very  fine  line? 

Still.  The  very  fine  line  that  divides  the 
things  a  gentleman  dues  do  from  the  things  he 
doesn't  do,  the  things  he  leaves  outsiders  to  do. 
You'll  one  day  be  the  head  of  an  old  family.  Keep 
on  the  right  side  of  the  line,  Teddy. 

Teddy.  But  have  you  ever  been  in  love.  I  nele 
Bill?  Real  downright,  what  you  may  call  all- 
devouring  lo\ 

Still.     Scores  of  times ! 

Teddy.  ( Turns  away  disgusted.)  I  asked  for 
a  little  sympathy.  (Going  off  at  back.)  Hush  I 
The  old  lady  !     You  won't  tell  her? 

Still.     No,  Teddy,  but 

Teddy.     Honour !     Hush ! 


Enter,  at  back.  Lady  Pixkxey. 

Lady  P.     ( I  'cry  cordially. )     Ah  !  my  dear  Bill, 
I'm  delighted!     Don't  go,  Teddy! 

(Teddy  is  sneaking  off,  at  back.) 
Still.     Ah,    Madge,    my    darling!     (Kissing 
c 


34  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

each  other  very  cordially.)      I'm  very,  very  L,dad 
to  sec  you. 

Lady  P.  Teddy,  where  have  you  been  all  the 
afternoon? 

Teddy.     I've  been — ruminating. 

Lady  P.  But  you  were  told  off  to  help  the 
Blenkii  it  their  stall  ? 

Teddy.  With  Trixie  Blenkinsop?  Thank 
you.     I  told  n;\  self  off  to  scuttle. 

Lady  P.  They're  all  waiting  for  you  at  the 
raffle. 

Teddy.     (  >h,  very  well.     Til  go,%but   I've  had 
just  about  enough  of  this   Blenkinsop  bevy.     I 
;n  to  s  >h,  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wil- 

dern<  ss !"  (Exit  sulkily,  at  back.) 

Lady  P.  That  wretched  boyl  What  shall  I 
do  with  him?  If  only  Bevis  had  been  the  elder! 
You're  earlier  than  you  expected. 

H.I..     The  express  was  pulled  up  at   Fatter- 

sham,  so  I  caught  that,  took  my  traps  up  to  the 

I  ;  and  the}-  sent  me  on  here.     Well,  Madge, 

you're  looking  wonderfully  young  and  charming. 

Lady  P.  It  must  be  my  troubles  and  worries 
that  preserve  me.  I  hope  you  haven't  come  to 
add  to  them. 

Still.  (  >nly  with  a  view  of  making  you  still 
younger  and  more  charming. 

Lady  P.  Xo,  Bill,  I  don't  want  any  compli- 
ments.    ( Taking  out  her  watch.  I     The  Bishop's 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  35 

address  begins  in  five  minutes,  but  I'll  give  you  a 
short  one,  meantime.  (Half  serious,  half  jest.) 
Now,  Bill,  1  sent  for  you  to  come  to  Shanctonbury 
because  I  trust  you're  going  to  settle  down  at  last 
into  a  steady,  respectable  member  of  society. 
You're  well  over  forty.  Surely  we're  not  going 
to  have  any  more  escapades  ?  I've  trouble  enough 
with  my  boys — what  with  the  impossibility  of  be- 
in,^  severe  enough  to  please  Bevis,  and  easy-going 
enough  to  please  Teddy,  my  life  is  a  burden  to  me. 
Pinkney  is  still  in  Australia,  and  his  steward, 
Chaytor,  is  with  him;  so  all  the  business  of  the 
estate  falls  on  me.  And  I  assure  you  that,  how- 
ever  fond  I  am  of  you,  and  however  much  you 
may  stand  in  need  of  my  watchfulness.  I've  no 
time  now  to  look  after  you,  and  keep  you  out  of 
mischief 

Still.  My  dear  Madge,  as  you  say,  I'm  over 
forty,  and  I  really  believe  I  am  now  arriving 
at  an  age  when  I  shall  soon  be  able  to  take  care 
of  myself,  and  keep  myself  out  of  mischief. 

Lady  P.  I  hope  so.  That  reminds  me — we're 
likely  to  have  something  of  a  scandal  in  Shancton- 
bury 

Still.     Indeed! 

Lady  P.     Mrs.  Wren  has  come  back. 

Still.     Wren? 

Lady  P.  Oh,  you  weren't  at  Shanctonbury 
during  the  time 


36  WHITEWASH  IXG    JULIA  act  i 

Still.  No.  Never  met  her.  Wren?  Wren?! 
What,  the  Duke  of  Savona?     The  puff-bo 

Lady  P.  Yes.  Now,  Bill,  promise  me  you 
won't  meet  her! 

Still.     (  >h.  I   won't     Now  that  was  a  most 
interesting  affair.     Cat  of  a  woman,  the  Due' 
of  Savona.     I   hear  she  worried  the  poor  Duke 
into  his  _L,rravc 

Lady  P.     Xo — he  died  of  German  measles. 

.^,ill.  I  should  like  to  know  the  real  history 
of  that  puff-box 

Lady  1'.  Samways  is  dining  with  us  to-night; 
he's  coming  on  purpose  to  explain  the  whole 
affair.     And  I've  asked  Caroline  Fewings. 

ill.      Poor    Carrie!  u    remember    I 

proposed   to   Carrie   five  years  ago?     Lucky  es- 
cape—  I  mean  for  her! 

Lady  P.  I  don't  think  so.  Caroline  has  seven 
thousand  a  year.  Now  Bill,  think  what  comfort 
it  would  be  to  us  if  you  would  a 

Still.      Marry  Carrie  Fewinj 

Lady  P.  Well,  I  don't  wish  to  be  premature; 
but  you  have  six  months  before  you  while  Pink- 
ney  is  away.  Virtually  you  will  be  the  head  of 
the  family.  What  a  chance  to  employ  these  six 
months — in 

Still.     In — what? 

Lady  P.  In  reforming  yourself  generally — 
guiding  my  boys 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  37 

Still.    I  will.     I  don't  mind  doing  any  amount 
of  general  reformation,  and  as  for  guiding  your 
boys — why   only  five   minutes  ago  I    discovered 
myself  giving  the  very  best  advice  to  Teddy. 
Lady  P.     What  about? 

Still.     His  low  affairs.     Just  a  word — keep 
a  very  sharp  look-out  on  Teddy. 

LADY  P.  Bill  I  Surely — he  hasn't  taken  up 
with  another  of  them? 

Still.  I  mustn't  say,  but — keep  a  very  sharp 
look-out  on  Teddy. 

Lady  P.  There's  another  of  them!  I  feel 
sure  there  is  1  i .  /  school-bell  rings  in  the  dis- 
tance. )  What  can  1  do  with  that  wretched, 
wretched  boj  ?  There's  the  bell  for  the  Bishop's 
address.     Will  you  come? 

Still.  I  don't  feel  particularly  in  need  of  spir- 
itual refreshment,  but  bodily — I  haven't  had  any 
lunch. 

(Looking  amongst  the  things  on  refresh- 
ment counter). 
Lady  P.  You'll  find  something  there !  (Bell 
rings  again).  I  must  go.  Dinner  at  eight. 
(Turns  back  as  she  goes  off  at  back.)  (Very 
imperatively.)  Bill,  remember  you  are  not  to 
know  this  Mrs.  Wren! 

Still.  (At  refreshment  counter.)  Of  course 
not.  (Exit  Lady  Pinkneyj*  back.)  Of  course 
not! 


38  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  i 

(Busies  him  U  refreshment  counter, 
eating  a  morsel  or  two.  Charlie 
enters  left  with  to  the 

r  he  I;  iously  left,  and 

>is  tying  them  together.) 

Still,   (eating  a  bun).    Heyl     Heyl    Some- 
ing  a  buster  in  aid  of  the  curates. 
Whose  parcels  art-  those,  my  la<l? 
Charlie  (tying  diem  up).    They  belong  to  a 
ly  what"-  come  to  live  at  the  Mount — 
ill     Mr-.  Wren? 
Charlie,     I    don't    know    her    name.    Ah! 

(  Beam  :h   calf-U  Iilia.   who   enters 

left.  | 

(Stillini  summons  /; 

turns  away  from  her. 
his  btt  X  ex  try  n 

::  her.  | 

Julia,    Oh,  Charlie,  •    rain.    You'd 

better  have  the  parcels,  and  I'll  send  my  maid  for 
them. 

Charlie.     (Disap  I — almost    in    tears.) 

I  hope  you  w  prive  me  of  the  I        ur,  Miss. 

I'll  pledge  my  word  they  shan't  get  wet. 

Julia  Oh.  very  well,  Charlie,  take  them  to 
the  Mount.  harlie  (taking  out  her  purse), 

I'm  sure  you're  a  very  good  boy.  and  a  great  com- 
fort to  your  mother,  aren't  you,  Charlie? 


act  i  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  39 

Charlie.  I  hope  so,  Miss.  I'll  strive  for 
your  sake — 

Julia.  Then  there's  half-a-crown  for  you, 
Charlie. 

Charlie  i  declining  it).  I  couldn't  take  money 
from  you,  Miss.  I  should  despise  myself.  1  ain't 
actuated  by  mercenary  mi 

1  Goes  off  left  slowly,  burdened  with  par- 
at  her  with  helpless  calf- 
love.    Julia,  who  has  taken  no  notice 
of   Si  11.1  i\>  Is  following  him 

left:  as  she  is  Stilung- 

11. 1. 1  .r   makes  a  little  start  and  stops 

kei 
Still.     A — I   beg  your  pardon — you've  left 
your  umbrella 

1  /  to  the  umbrella  Miss  FEWINGS 

has  left  against  the  table  left.) 

Julia.     No — thanks — it  isn't  mine 

(Exit,  left.  Stillingfleet  shou's  slight 
annoyance,  and  then  creeps  jauntily 
up  to  left  entrance  to  look  after  her, 
but  just  as  he  gets  there,  she  suddenly 
returns,  purse  in  hand  and  there  is  a 
pause  of  great  embarrassment  between 
them.) 

Julia.     I  beg  pardon 

Still.     I  beg  pardon 

Julia.     I've  just  remembered   that   I  haven't 


40  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  i 

paid  for  a  cup  of  very  bad  stale  tea  that  I  had. 
They  told  me  the  charge  was  a  shilling,  and  that 

I  v.  '.cave  the  money  on  the  counter. 

(She  takes  a  shilling  out  of  her  purse, 

places    it    carefully    on    the    counter, 

:.;i  turns  ami  'ft-  ) 

ILL.      I'm  afraid  I'm  open  to  the  same  charge 

of   forgetful;  ess.      I've   had   two  biscuits,  half   a 

stale  bun,  and  a  f  -our  lemonade.     Can  you 

help  me  to  estimate  my  Liabilities 

Julia.     I'm  afraid   I  can't     But  in  the  cause 
of  charity,  one  cannot  he  l    •    haritable. 

off  le 
Still    (stopping   her).     A — may    1    ask    who 
•>-  this  -tall  ? 
Julia.     Lady  Pinkney,  1 
Still.     My 
Julia.     Your  sister?    You  are   Mr.  Stilling- 

II  c< 

Still.     'N 

(Julia  I  cry  slightly  and  goes  off 

left.     He  again  follows  her  up,  but 
just  as  he  to  the  opening  there  is 

a   little    clap   of   thunder,   and   Julia 
rushes  back  with  a  little  scream. ) 

Still.     You're  frightened? 

Julia.     (  >h.  no.     A  little  startled.     I'm  afraid 
it's  going  to  rain 

Still  (looking  off).     I'm  afraid  it's  going  to 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  41 

pour.  Hadn't  y<  >u  better  wait  for  a  few  minutes? 
(Plating  a  chair  for  her  near  the  table 
left.  Julia  sits  demurely.  He  goes 
to  refreshment  counter  and  again 
looks  amongst  the  refreshments,  oc- 
casionally turning  around  to  glance  at 
her.  1 
Still.     I  think  that's  a  very  fine  sentiment  of 

yours 

JULIA.     Sentiment"' 

Still.  "In  the  cause  of  charity  one  cannot  be 
too  charitable."  If  1  leave  live  shillings  on  the 
counter,  shall  1  have  risen  to  the  occasion,  do  you 
think  ? 

Julia.  It  would  be  most  generous.  I  should 
say. 

(Stillingi-ll.lt  takes  out  his  purse  and 
counts  fire  shillings,  laying  them  care- 
fully on  the  counter  next  to  hers.     The 
rain  comes  pelting  down  on  the  out- 
side of  the  tent.) 
Still.     I  told  you  it  was  going  to  pour. 
Julia.     We  are  fortunate  to  be  under  shelter. 
Still.     Yes.     (Pause  of  embarrassment.    He 
nibbles  a  bit  of  bun  and  turns  around  to  look  at 
her  with  admiration.)     I  can't  congratulate  my 
r  on  the  quality  of  her  refreshments. 
Julia.     Xo? 
S  till.     You  said  your  cup  of  tea  was  very  bad. 


WHITEWASHING    JULIA  act  i 

Julia.     Horrid!     And  I  had  such  a  headache! 
Still,  (sympathisingly) .    A  headache!    Now 

I  wonder  if  it  would  be  possible  to  .uret  you  a  cup 
of  fresh  tea  ?     (  Going  around  to  back  of  counter.  > 

Julia.  (  At  table.  )  I  am  a  little  thirsty.  But 
pray  don't  trouble — perhaps  there's  a  little  fruit? 

Si  ILL.      I  wonder  where  these  people  keep  their 

rve   stock.     (  Looking   under   counter — rum- 
maging  about,    suddenly    exclaims.)     Ah!    Ah! 

I  Triumphantly  brings  >>ut  the  dish  of  strawberries 

I  cream. ) 

Julia.     What  very  fine  strawberri 

Still.     Yes,  and  so  early  in  the  season.    (Plac- 
them  on  her  l  Now!     Sugar?     (  Tak- 

ing sifted  sugar  fr<>ni  counter. )  And  then — char- 
ity will  begin  at  hi >-. 

Julia.     I  haven't  tasted  strawberries  this  sea- 

•  . 

ill.  (,  .  himself.)     Neither  have  I. 

JULIA.     Shouldn't  one  wish ? 

Slill.      I     suppose     one     should.      (Pause.) 

I I  ve  you  wished? 

Julia.  Yes.     Have  you  ? 

Still.  Yes.  |  The  rain  cones  pelting  dozen.) 
I  hope  you  haven't  very  far  to  go. 

Julia.  Some  little  distance.  I  live  at  The 
Mi  >unt 

Still.  <  >h.     Then  you  are 

Julia.  I  am  Mrs.  Wren. 


act  i  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  43 

Still.  Oh — Oh — (Pause  of  embarrassment.) 
That's  a  very  fine  one. 

(Pointing  to  a  large  strawberry.) 

Julia  (taking  it.  )  Thank  you.  But  you're 
eating  none  yourself.  That  seems  to  be  a  ripe 
one. 

STILL,  (taking  it.)      Thank  you  !     But 

(Pause     of     embarrassment.      The     rain 
comes     dozen     in     torrents     outside. 
Miss  Fi  v.  i  ngs  appears  at  back,  left,  as 
if  she  had  just  concluded  a  run  for 
shelter.     She    is  about    to    enter,   but 
stops  indignant  on  seeing  the  pair  eat- 
ing  the   strawberries.    She   stays  a 
moment  watching  the  scene,  and  then 
goes  off   indignantly  on   the  opposite 
side,  unnoticed  by  Stillingfleet  and 
Julia.) 
Still,    (looking  at   Julia   very   admiringly.) 
You    were    saying — (Pushing    the    strawberries 
towards  her.)     Something  about  charity,  wasn't 
it? 

Julia.     How  very  little  true  charity  one  meets 
with ! 

Still.     Very  little  indeed. 

Julia.     By  charity,  I  don't  mean  mere  money 

giving 

Still.     Xo — Xo 


44  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  i 

Julia.     I  mean  looking  over  our  neighboui 
faults 

Still.     Yc — shutting  to  his  little 

failings 

:.i.\.     Yes — refusii  mymalicio 

that  may  be  circulated  about  him,  or  her — 
ill.     Now  that's  very  large-hearted  of  j 
Julia.     In  fact,  my  definiti  i      I  true  charity 
this — "N  rely  re:  believe 

idle  scandal,   but  even   to   listen   to  it    [ 
ment" 

harity. 

.'.   win  rip- 

the  world  ? 

\.     Ah  Why  is  it  that  people 

put  the  worst  inter- 
little — unfortunate    occur- 

Still.Ii  hu- 

•:  natur  That's 

a  littli  v. 

Julia.    <  'h.  please — no  more 

ILL.  Some    kind 

Ughtful  soul  must  have  placed  tl. 

I   r  you. 
Julia.     You  think  so?     Then  you  must  help 
me  eat  them ! 

Sn  H  hat  we  were  talking  about? 


act  i  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  45 

Julia.     We  were  trying  to  account  for  the  ab- 
sence of  true  charity  in  the  world. 

Si  ill.     1 1 ">  lamentable!     Why  is  it? 

Julia.     I  think  sufficient  allowance  is  not  made 
for  temperament 

Still.     Decidedly  sufficient  allowance  is  not 
made  for  temperament.     [*ve  alw  It  that 

Julia.     Nor  for  the  peculiar  circumstances  in 
which  <>iK-  may  happen  t«>  be  placed. 

Still     1  •  that  too — very  strongly. 

Julia     Now  I  know  a  dear  little  woman  who 
went  on  a  summer  trip  t.>  Norway 

Still.     Yes 

her  si 

Julia.    *  >n  a  yacht 

Still     (  m  a  yacht 


Julia,     X".  thank  you 

1 .     <  >h.    you    must    indeed.     Yes,    "■ 

little  woman  who  went  to  Norway — on  a  yacht 


JULIA.  I'm  sure  from  her  character  she  was 
absolutely  incapable  ^i  the  least  indiscretion 

Still.     Absolutely  incapable! 

Julia.  But  circumstances  seemed  to  point  the 
other  way — and — g — ip  (with  a  sympathetic 
shrug  and  gestu  h  )  it  broke  her  heart. 

Still.     Shameful !     1  Eating  a  strawberry.  ) 


46  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  i 

Julia.     Yes,  quite  broke  her  heart.    She  In 
in  Paris  now. 
Still.     Poor  little  creature! 

<  Eating  another  strawberry.  > 
JULIA.      I  believe  some  time  ago,  some  good- 
natured  friends  actually  started  some  absurd  story 
about  me. 

[mp  ssible ! 
Julia.     It  is  quite  true. 

[LL     I  begin  to  be  ashamed  of  m 
Julia.     I  never  t'»>k  the  least  notice  of  it. 

ill.     Much  the  best  w 
JULIA.      I  merely  let  it  die  a  natural  death. 

I  ■  lite  right ! 
Julia   (  rising.  >      I  think  the  rain  has  left  off. 
left,  looking  off.     Mrs.    Bevis 
and  Miss  Fewings  look  in  at  back 
ht,  a>:J  watch. ) 
ILL.     No — {looking  oft).     I  U  raining 

a  little. 

i.ia.     (  >h.  it   won't  hurt,  and   I  must   really 

be  getting  home 

Still.     Musi        i?     It's   still   spotting.    Ah! 

Miss  Fewings'  umbrella.)     Here's  an 

umbrella.     Now   I   wonder  who  is  the  owner  of 

this — at  any  rate  we'll  borrow  it.  and — shall  I  see 

you  across  to  the  school-room? 

Julia.     (  >h.  I'm  taking  you  out  of  your  way — 
Still.     Not  at  all 


act  i  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  47 

(Opens  the  umbrella  and  takes  her  off 
very  p  .'.tely  left.  Miss  Fewings  and 
Mrs.  Bevis  come  down,  drenched 
through,  and  with  dra  petticoats 

— Mrs.  Bevis  comes  up  to  the  empty 
plate  of  strawberries,  holds  it  up.  ) 

Mrs.  B.     Mrs.  Galer's  strawberries! 

(Miss  Fewings  goes  towards  left. 
makes  a  feeble  little  gasp  and  clutch 
after  STILLING!  U  .''  JULIA.) 

Miss  F.     My  new  umbrella  ! 


RTAIN. 

(Tu  :ths  pass  bet:,  lets  1  and  2.) 


ACT  II 

S( !  -       Morning i     mat  Mrs.  Wren's,  The  Mount. 
Shanctonbury.    A  prettily  furnish  "i   in  an 

w  window  at  back*  giving 

I  showing  beyond  a  imall 

n  with  rig.     A  «i-  ><  »r  up 

\  ■  •  inked  with  Sowers.    A 

with  chain 

n  which  ar 

Id  volui 
right,  with  a  large 
lien    antii;  arm.     The 

•  jf  dain:  ttily  furnished, 

nick-n:; 

Time— An  >n,  about  i 

erjvu  of ternoon  dress,  sea 

<•  •  vet  the  law  books; 

ltly  puzzled. 
'.i  \   i  rea  "h  ble  in  any 

Christian  state  for  an;.  in,  whether  royal  or 

not,  to  contract  a  marriage  which  shall  I  1  in 

law,  and  at  the  same  time  leave  such  p  free 

to  marry  again  while  the  first  husband  or  wif 
still  living. 

48 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  49 

{Turns,  puzzled,  to  another  book,  sighs 
and  looks  worried.     Trixie  Blenk- 
insof  has  sidled  into  the  window  from 
the  garden   on   the  left  side,  stands 
there  as  if  afraid  to  come  in.) 
Tkixii:.     I'm  here,  Mrs.  Wren. 
JULIA.      Trixie!     When    I    told    you    never    to 
come  lure  again  unless  Mrs.  Blenkinsop  knew. 

Trixie.     Sh<  w  that  I'm  h 

mm.) 
Julia.     (Astonished.)     Wl 

(  Jumps  it  Tkixii:.  ) 

Trixie.    And  my  uncle  knows,  too. 
Julia.     (Asi  Th<         -hop     knows 

:  have  come  I  !     (Overjoyed.)     My 

dear  Trixie!      1  K  her.)      How  did  you  man- 

it? 

Tkixii:.     Well,  I  was  determined  to  come  a 
see  you.    You  know  you  can  generally  get  what 
you  want  if  you  1  nl)  go  on  my  plan. 

Julia.     What  is  your  plan? 

Tkixii:.     (  >ur  old  nurse  taught  it  to  me.     She 
said  to  me,  "My  cherub"—  to  call  me  her 

cherub — "My  cherub."  she  said,  "if  you  want 
your  way  in  this  world  you  must  let  folks  see  that 
yon  mean  to  scratch  first  1  showing  her  nails),  and 
scratch  hardest,  and  scratch  longest,  and  then 
folks  generally  won't  scratch  you  at  all.     (Tri- 

D 


50  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  i  n 

umphantly    showing    her    nails.)     Nobody    ever 
scratch'  -  i 

Julia.     But  you  didn't  scratch 

Trixie.     Auntie?     Yes — figuratively.     I     be- 
gan with  having  a  furious  row  with  her. 

Julia.     My  dear  Trixie,  you  can't  go  through 
life  having  furious  rows  with  everybody 

Trixie.    Oh,  I  love  it!    Then  aunt  had  h 
terics,  then  uncle  came  in.  then  I  had  won 
terics.     I  can  always  have  hysterics  when  it's  nec- 

U  know 

Julia.     Well? 

Trixie.     Well,  I  worked  poor  old  auntie  up, 
and  I  v.    ■         myself  up,  and  uncle  lifted  up  his 
hands,  like  this  {lifting  up  her  hands  ).  and  looked 
.r  injui  lamb,  and  aunt 

.  and  I  got  v.  "ill  I  had  rate 

tit,  and  I  shrit  ut,  "I  can't  help  it  I     IV 

to  The  Mount  to  see  Mrs.  Wren,  if  I  die  for  it!*' 
m. 
Julia.      ( /'.  \'y.)      I'm  very  sorry  and 

very  angry  with  you.      i  Turns  from  Trixik,  scats 
herself  at  table.  Trixie  comes  up  to  her  coax- 
;:.)     No,    Trixie.     You    know    how   much    I 
U,  but  1  can  never  see  you,  or  speak  to  you 
in. 
Trixie.     Dear  Mrs.  Wren. 

(Trying  to  embrace  Julia.) 
Julia.     Xo.     Please  don't !     What  will  your 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  51 

dear  aunt  think  of  me?  What  will  the  dear 
Bishop  think  of  me?  They  will  think  I  encour- 
age you  to  come  here. 

Trixie  (trying  to  embrace  Julia  ).  Dear  Mrs. 
Wren  !     Do  forgive  me  ! 

Julia.     I  don't  think  I  can.    Unless — you 

Trixie.    Y< 

Julia.  Go  back  to  the  Palace  at  once,  and  tell 
your  aunt  that  1  was  verj  angry  with  you  for  com- 
ing against  her  wish,  and  that  1  sent  you  hack  to 
beg  her  pardon 

Trixie.     Beg  her  pardon!     No,  if  I  once  1' 
her  pardon  1  shall  never  he  able  to  do  anything 
with  her  in  future. 

Julia.  Very  well.  Then  our  friendship  is  at 
an  end.     Gooddj\  e. 

i  Trixie  goes  sulkily  »/»  to  window,  then 
suddenly  rushes  back  to  Julia.) 

Trixil.  I  will  beg  her  pardon  if  you'll  kiss 
me,  and  say  you  forgive  me. 

Julia.  (Kisses  her.)  I  forgive  you.  Xow 
go  at  01  (Trixie  goes  to  back. ) 

Julia.  And.  Trixie,  you  might  tell  Airs. 
Blenkinsop  how  very  pretty  her  green  antimacas- 
sar looks  on  my  sofa 

Trixie.     (Has  a  fit  of  laughter.)     Oh,  I  say! 

(Exit  at  back.) 
Meade,  a  parlour  maid,  enters  at  door  announc~ 

ing  Mr.  Sam  ways. 


52  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  11 

Enter  Sam  ways.    Exit  Meade. 

-  \.\i\VAVs.     Ah,  my  dear  girl !     How  are  you? 

Julia.     I'm  very  well — except — 

(Looking  at  the  laze  books.) 
lMWAYS.      Have  you   found  anything  there? 
i  Pointing  to  the  laze  books.) 

JULIA.  Xo.  The  laws  relating  to  morganatic 
marriages  are  in  Mich  a  muddle.  Xot  one  o;  them 
seems  to  meet  my  c. 

Sam  ways.  <  With  a  little  sniff  of  incredulity. ) 
No,  I  dare  say  not  {Shutting  up  the  laze  books.  ) 
Give  it  up.  my  dear  Julia.     The  Duke  of  Sa\ 

already  married.  Now  listen — where  is  it? 
Ah!  {Reading  from  one  of  the  books.)  "A 
morganatic  marriage  does  not  differ  from  any 
Other.  It  is  a  legal  marriage,  and  contracting 
any  other  while  it  stands  is  bigamy."  {Shuts  the 
with  a  bang.)     Bigamy] 

JULIA.  Yes — of  course.  I  wasn't  thinking  of 
that  kind  of  morganatic  marriage. 

Samways.  Drop  it.  my  dear  Julia!  You'll 
get  into  very  deep  water  if  you  don't. 

Julia.  But  I'm  in  very  deep  water  already. 
I've  been  in  Shanctonbury  over  two  months,  and 
nobody  calls  on  me. 

Samways.     Nobody? 

Julia.  Only  Mr.  Teddy  Pinkney  and  Mr.  Stil- 
ling:"! eet. 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  53 

Sam  ways.  Lady  Pinkney  is  going  to  call  on 
you. 

Julia.     Lady  Pinkney  !     When  ? 

Sam  ways.  To-day.  I've  just  got  wind  of  it, 
and  hurried  up  to  warn  you. 

Julia.     Warn  me? 

Sam  ways.  There's  a  very  strong  faction 
against  you  in  Shanctonbury,  headed  by  the  Bevis 
Pinkneys.  I've  saved  the  situation  for  you  as  tar 
as  I  could.     But  it's  getting  out  of  my  hands. 

Julia.    What  ought  I  to  do? 

S  \mu  ays.  Lady  Pinkney  is  coming  here  with 
a  fixed  resolution  to  get  at  the  truth.  If  you  mean 
to  live  in  Shanctonbury,  I  should  tell  her  all  about 

it. 

Julia.    The  puff-box? 

Sam  ways.  Yes.  Dish  it  up  as  well  as  you 
can,  but  tell  her  the  complete  story,  or  at  least  a 
complete  story. 

Julia.  (Looks  lo)igi)igly  at  the  laze  books 
which  Sam  ways  is  getting  under  his  arm.)  Even 
if  there  had  been — I  won't  say  a  regular  morga- 
natic marriage — but  (looking  anxiously  at  him) 
something — equivalent  to  a  morganatic  marriage? 

S  a  m  w  a  y  s.  (Sharp,  relentless.)  When? 
Where  ?  Civil  or  religious  ?  Who  were  the  wit- 
nesses? 

Julia  (reproachfully).  I  see  you  don't  be- 
lieve in  me. 


54  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

Enter  Meade, 

Meade.     (Announces. )     Lady  Pinkneyl 

(Sam  ways  catches  up  his  hat.) 
Julia.     You  won't  run  away 

Enter  Lady  PiNKNEY  at  door. 

Julia.  (Advances  cordially.)  Dear  Lady 
Pinkneyl     Bring  some  tea,  Meade. 

( Exit  Meade.) 
Lady  P.  (shaking  hands  cordially).     My  dear 
Mrs.  Wren,  how  d'ye  do?     Ah,  Mr.  Samways. 

(Nodding  to  Samways.) 

Julia.     It's  so  kind  of  you  to  call.    Won't  you 

i  Wheeling  armchair  for  her,  making 

cushions,    etc.,    comfortable    for    her.)      There ! 

I  Lady  PiNKNEY  sits.)     Cousin  Tom,  you  aren't 

goh 

5  \mways.      (Has  collected  his  law  books  and 

is  sneaking  off.)     Well — I 

Julia.  Sit  down.  (Makes  Samways  sit. 
Samways  is  very  uncomfortable.)  I  was  begin- 
ning to  think  my  Shanctonbury  friends  had  for- 
gotten me. 

i  Seating  herself  next  Lady  Pixkxey.) 
Lady  P.     Oh  no,  dear.     I'm  afraid  we've  been 
thinking  and  talking  a  great  deal  about  you. 

(Samways  fidgets.) 
Julia.     Then   I'm  sure  you've  been  thinking 


act  n  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  55 

and  saying  all  the  kind  things  you  possibly  could. 

Lady   P.     Well,  dear,  perhaps  it  wouldn't  be 

wise  to  repeat  all — especially  before 

(Glancing  at  Sam  ways.) 

Julia.  I've  no  secrets  from  Cousin  Tom — 
1  was  just  consulting  him  on  an  important  point 
of  law,  wasn't  1,  Cousin  Tom? 

Sam  ways.     Yes 

Lady  P.     Indeed ! 

Julia.  It  seems  that  on  this  particular  point, 
the  law  itself  is  in  a  perfect  chaos,  isn't  it? 

(Taking  up  one  of  the  books  and  looking 
to  SAMWAYS  for  encouragement.  ) 

Sam  ways.  (Looks  blank  and  impassizw) 
Yes 

Lady  P.     What  is  this  particular  point? 

Sam  ways.      {Jumps  up.)     Dear  me  ! 

Julia.     What's  the  matter? 

Sam  ways.  I've  got  a  town  council  meeting. 
I  Ye  kept  them  all  waiting.  Lady  Pinkney,  please 
excuse  me.  Julia,  my  dear,  about  that  point  I'm 
sure  you'd  better  leave  it  until  I've  ascertained 
what  the  law  really  is. 

Julia.     You  think  my  lips  had  better  be  closed  ? 

Sam  ways.  Certainly,  on  that  particular  point. 
Not  one  word  about  it !  Good-bye,  Lady  Pink- 
ney.    Good-bye,  my  dear !     Must  go!     Must  go! 

(Hurries  off  at  back.) 

Lady  P.     (Watches  him  off  relieved.)     Ah! 


56  WHITEWASHING    JULIA  act  ii 

(  Turns  to  Julia  with  a  very  determined  manner.) 
Now,  my  dear  Mrs.  Wren.  I'm  going  to  ha\ 
little  quiet  friendly  talk  (  drawing  her  chair  closer 
to  Julia)  on  a  matter  of  vital  importance  to  you. 

Julia.     Yes 

Lady  P.     So  I'm  sure  it's  much  better  for 
to  be  alone. 


Enter  Meade  with  tea  things,  which  she  puts  on 
table,  left. 

Julia.  Yes.  We  women  understand  each 
other  so  much  better  than  men  understand  us, 
don't  v. 

(Lady    PiNKNEY    shows    annoyance    at 
Me  U'l.'s  presence,  i 
Julia.     You'll  take  some  tea,  won't  you? 
Lady  P.     Yes.  if  you  please. 

lancing  at  Meade.) 
Julia.     For   genuine   sympathy   woman    must 
always  go  to  woman.     There  is,  or  there  should 

be  a  kind  of  freemasonry  between  us 

Lady  P.     Yes (Looking  at  Meade.)     It 

won't  be  necessary  for  her  to  wait,  will  it? 

Julia.     Oh,  no.     Leave  the  tea  things,  Meade. 
(G  tea  table,  left.     Exit  Meade,  left.)      I 

always  prefer  to  pour  out  my  tea  for  my  visitors. 
(Lady  PiNKNEY  drags  her  chair  up  to  Julia.) 

(Julia  pouring  out.) 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  57 

This  is  a  very  delicate  blend  of  Lapsang  and 
Kaisow. 

Lady  P.  Lapsang  and  Kaisow.  Thank  you. 
Very  little  milk. 

Julia.     One  lump  or  two? 

Lady  P.     One  small  lump,  please. 

Julia.     I  always  take  one  small  lump. 

Lady  P.  Now  to  return  to  our  conversation. 
You  are  surprised  your  old  friends  haven't  called 
upon  you? 

JULIA.  I  did  think  it  a  little  unkind.  By  the 
way,  I  must  tell  you  I'm  not  responsible  for  Mr. 
Edwin  Pinkney's  visits  here. 

Lady  P.  (Upset.)  My  son  Edwin  has  been 
calling  upon  you  ! 

Julia.  Yes — three  times  in  all.  You  didn't 
know  ? 

Lady  P.  Xot  a  word.  (Is  much  upset.)  I 
think  it  most  inconsiderate  of  him 

Julia.  I  told  him  so.  And  I  asked  him  as  a 
favour  to  me  not  to  call  again  unless  you  knew. 

Lady  P.  Thank  you.  Edwin  is  a  great  trial 
to  me 

Julia.     He  has  a  very  sweet  nature 


Lady  P.  He  has  simply  no  sense  of  what  is 
due  to  our  position 

Julia.  He  does  seem  to  stand  in  need  of  a 
little  firm  tender  guidance.  Now  if  you  could 
only  bring  about  some  suitable  attachment 


58  WHITEWASHING    JULIA  act  n 

Lady  P.  Yes,  yes.  {Hurriedly  changes  the 
subject.)  May  I  ask  how  Edwin  became  ac- 
quainted with  you  ? 

Julia.     Mr.  Stillingfleet  presented  him  to  me 

after  the  service  at  Saint  Radegonde's  a  few  Sun- 
day mornings  ?go. 

Lady  P.  [Annoyed.)  Ohl  I  heard  that  my 
brother  had  been  calling  upon  you — rather  fre- 
quently ? 

JULIA.  No — no — not  too  frequently.  lie's 
fond  of  botany  like  myself. 

LADY  P.      'Astonished.)     Botany?! 
;.ia.     Wildflowers. 

Lady  P.     Wildflowers?!     My  dear  Mrs.  Wren 

— now  do  Kt  me  warn  you — in  the  strictest  confi- 
dence, my  hr<»ther  is  a  most  charming  man,  and 
I'm  •         nately  fond  of  him 

Julia.     And  he  -imply  .  you  ! 

Lady  P.  Y.  s,  yes — but  for  your  own  sake  let 
me  beg  you  not  to  encourage  his  visits  here. 

JULIA.  You  think  Mr.  Stillingfleet  is  not — 
not  quite  a  nice  acquaintance  for  me? 

Lady  P.  Well.  I  won't  say  that.  But  he  is 
simply  the  most  erratic  impossible  creature  where 
.en  are  concerned.  I'm  speaking  solely  in 
your  interests,  solely  for  your  good 

Iulia.     I'm  sure  you  are! 

Lady  P.     Now  please  let  my  brother  plainly 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  59 

understand  that  he  will  not  be  welcome  here  in  the 
future. 

Julia.  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it.  But  I've  so 
few  friends 

Lady  P.     Yes,  and  that  brings  me  to  the  object 

of  my    visit.     Now,    my   dear (drawing   her 

chair  closer  to  Julia  in  a  very  determined  way.) 
I'm  sure  \  t  >u  w<  >n't  mind  my  speaking  to  you  in  the 
very  plainest  way 

Julia.  Dear  Lady  Pinkney,  I  wish  it. 
What's  the  use  of  having  friends  if  they  shirk 
their  duty  of  showing  you  your  faull 

Lady  P.  Yes,  yes.  Now  do  you  intend  to 
remain  in  Shanctonbur}  ': 

Julia.     I've  not  quite  made  up  my  mind 

Lady  P.  Because,  if  you  wish  to  leave  Shanc- 
tonbury,  I  think  I  could  find  you  a  very  desirable 
tenant  for  this  house. 

Julia.     How  good  of  you  ! 

Lady  P.  Miss  Fewings  finds  her  little  place 
too  small,  and  she  would  pay  you  a  very  hand- 
some rental,  and  take  a  long  lease. 

Julia.  Dear  Miss  Fewings!  Will  you  thank 
her,  and  say  she  shall  have  the  first  refusal,  if  I  do 
leave  Shanctonbury  ? 

Lady  P.     Eut  you're  not  sure? 

Julia.     Not  quite. 

Lady  P.  Because,  my  dear,  now  I'm  going  to 
be  frank — if  you  don't  leave  Shanctonbury,  the 


60  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

question  arises,  Do  you  intend  to  remain  as  yon 
are,  outside  all  your  old  circle,  outside  our  pleas- 
ant little  society,  such  as  it  is.  in  your  present  very 
uncomfortable  position?  For  I  imagine  it  is  a 
very  uncomfortable  position. 
Julia.    (  »h.  very  uncomfortable,  I  assure  you. 

J'.ut  ['ve  made  the  pleasantest  little  overtures  to 
everybody.  There's  the  new  Bishop — he  hasn't 
gle  word  with  me 

LADY  P.  My  dear,  you  must  own  it  would  be 
impossible  for  the  l'.ishop  to  know  yqu  at  present 

Julia.  Why?  If  I'm  half  as  wicked  as  some 
people  try  to  make  out,  surely  I'm  the  very  person 
whom  the  Bishop  ought  to  kn 

LADY  P.     Spiritually,  perhaps 

Julia.  Well,  "spiritually"  would  do.  I  don't 
wish  to  make  nice  distinctions. 

Lady  1'.  It's  not  a  question  of  knowing  you 
spiritually.  It's  a  question  of  knowing  you 
socially.  We  are  all  willing  to  know  you  spiritu- 
ally, and  to  give  you  the  best  advice,  and 

Julia.     And  cross  my  name  off  your  visiting 

.  and  cut  me  when  you  meet  me,  and  talk  all 
sorts  of  scandal  about  me  when  I'm  out  of  sight. 
I  beg  your  pardon.  Lady  Pinkney — I  didn't  mean 
to  say  that.  But  I'm  sure  you  will  see  that  I'm 
really  not  a  woman  to  be  known  spiritually — in 
that  sense.  That  must  remain  a  luxury  for  the 
lower  classes.     You  can  give  them  a  tract  and 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  61 

send  them  into  an  institution.  But  you  can't 
quite  do  that  sort  of  thing  with  me,  can  you?  I 
must  be  known  socially,  or  not  at  all.  Can  I  give 
you  another  cup  of  tea  ? 

Lady  P.  Xo,  thank  you.  It's  delicious  tea. 
What  blend  did  you  say  it  was? 

Julia.     Lapsang  and  Kaisow. 

Lady  P.  Lapsang  and  Kaisow.  Where  can 
I  get  some? 

Julia.  My  tea  merchant  blends  it  especially 
for  nie.     I'll  write  him  to  send  you  some. 

LADY  P.     Thank  you.  but  really 

Julia.  Oh,  quite  without  prejudice,  as  the 
lawyers  say. 

Lady  P.     But  to  return  to  our  conversation — 

Julia.  Yes.  1  think  my  old  friends,  and  you 
amongst  them,  have  treated  me  very  shabbily. 

L.\i>v  P.     The  matter  lies  in  your  own  hands. 

Julia.     How?  (Getting  apprehensive.) 

Lady  P.  I've  not  the  least  curiosity.  I  don't 
wish  to  pry  into  your  affairs.  But  (very  firmly, 
drawing  her  chair  a  little  closer)  you  must  be 
aware  that  certain  stories  are  afloat — Wouldn't  it 
be  better  to  answer  them  ? 

Julia.     In  what  way? 

Lady  P.  Give  me  the  true  history  of  the 
whole  affair. 

Julia.  I  hope  you  don't  think  that  I  haven't 
a  sufficient  answer  to  all  these  canards. 


62  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

LADY  P.     Oh,  I'm  sure  you  have.     What  is  it? 

Julia.     (Is  fumbling  the  laze  books.)     Well, 
very  important  question  of  law  had  arisen — 

Lady  P.     What  question  of  law  ? 

Julia.  You  heard  Mr.  Samways  advising  me 
to  say  nothing       So  you  see  my  lips  are  closed. 

Lady  P.  But  this  is  not  a  question  of  law. 
This  is  a  question  of  fact. 

Julia  (getting  embarrai  What? 

Lady  P.     ( /  }raws  out  a  piece  of  paper  from  her 
,.-  |     I   took  the  precaution  before  coming 
here  to  obtain  certain  definite  particulars  about — 
a — Well,  my  dear,  you  know  it  i-  alleged — with 
what  truth  I  don't  know — hut  it  1  that  cer- 

tain articles  wer  vered  in  very  compromis- 

cireumstanccs — There  was  a  dressing-bag — 

ami  a  puff -box 

I  believe  it  v.  I  that  the  ng- 

had  my  initials — that  is  quite  false. 

I  ,i>\  P.  And  the  puff-box — i  Long  pause.)  — 
you  do  see  the  m  of  telling  me,  don't  you? 

Ilia,     ('lives — a 

Lady  P.    The  puff-box  ? 

Julia.  Perhaps  I'd  better  begin  at  the  very 
beginning — 

Lady  P.     Certainly. 

Julia.  When  I  arrived  at  Venice  in  May, 
eisrhteen-ninetv-nine.  I  was  introduced  to  a  most 
charming 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  63 

Enter  Meade,  showing  in  Mr.  Stillixgfleet. 

Meade.     (Announcing.)     Mr.  Stillingfl< 
Enter  Stillingfleet.    Exit  Meade 

Still.  (Enters.)  Ah,  good  afternoon.  I — 
a — (Shows  great  confusion  on  see  1 .  sn\  1  'in  k- 
ney.)  Madgi  (Recovering  himself.)  I 
thought  I  might  catch  you  here 

Lady  P.  You  thought  you  might  catch  me 
here  ? 

Still.     Yes,  dear.     I've  some  news  for  you — 

Lady  P.     News?    What? 

Still.  One  moment,  till  I've  paid  my  respects 
to  Mrs.  Wren.     How  d'ye  do? 

(Shaking  hands  cordially.) 

Julia,  How  d'ye  do?  I'm  delighted  to  see 
yi  >u — won't  you  sit  d<  iwn  ? 

Still.     Thank    you.     I've   called    to   tell    5 

about  that  little a that and  I'm  really 

pleased  to  find  my  sister  here.  I  know  she  has 
been  intending  to  call  for  some  time,  hut  she  is  so 
busy,  aren't  you.  Madge?  What  with  the  estate 
and  her  poor  people,  she's  always  employed. 
I  Patting  Lady  Pinkney  on  shoulder.)  Never 
happy  unless  she's  doing  some  kind  thoughtful 

little  neighbourly  action   like  this Oh,   don't 

deny  it.  my   dear (To  Julia,  patting  Lady 

Pixkxey.  )  The  kindest  and  dearest  creature  in 
the  world.  Well  now,  I  wonder  if  I  might  beg  a 
cup  of  tea. 


64  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

Julia.     (Goes  to  tea  table.)     Certainly. 

Lady  P.     {Severely.)     You  said  you  had  some 
news  for  me. 

Still.     Yes.     The  prodigal  has  returned. 

Lady  P.     Edwin? 

Still.     Pitkin,    the    under-gardener,    says   he 
caught  sight  of  him  outside  the  Railway  Hotel. 

Lady  P.     Edwin  at  the  Railway  Hotel? 

Still.     Pitkin  wasn't  quite  sure. 

Lady    P.     It's   impossible.     What  should  Ed- 
win be  doing  at  the  Railway  Hotel?    • 

i  Julia  gives  tea  to  Stillingfleet.) 

-  itll.     Thank  you. 

Enter  MEADE  with  It  :  tray  which  she  brings 

to  Julia. 

Meade.     The    messenger    is    waiting    for    an 
answer. 

Julia.     {Takes it.")     Will  you  allow  me? 

(Opens  it,  lias  a  slight  start,  shows  sur- 
prise and  perplexity,  reads  it  again; 
glances  at  Lady  Pinkney  and  Stil- 
lingfleet.) 
Julia.     Where  is  the. messenger? 
Mi     »e     In  the  hall,  ma'am. 
Julia.     (To  Lady  Pinkney.)     Will  you  ex- 
cuse me  a  minute  ? 

{Exit    Julia    with    letter,    follozced    by 
Meade.) 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  65 

Lady  P.  (Looks  at  Stillingfleet  severely.) 
You've  been  studying  botany  ? 

Still.  Eh?  Yes — yes — a  few  rudiments. 
Do  you  know,  Madge,  I  actually  didn't  know  the 
names  of  our  commonest   wildflowers — bugloss, 

bladder    campion,     sticklewort Sticklewort? 

Stipplewort? Well,  there  you  see  I  don't  know 

its  right  name  even  now.  It  grows  in  every 
hedge-row.  It's  disgraceful  for  a  man  to  arrive 
at  my  age  and  not  know  the  name  of  the  simplest 
wildflowers. 

Lady  P.  (Serene — severe.)  You've  been  go- 
ing to  Saint  Radegonde's  on  Sunday  mornings. 

Still.  Yes — yes — Ah,  you  see,  dear,  your 
good  advice  has  borne  fruit  at  last!  After  all 
these  years,  too !  You  wouldn't  have  thought  it, 
would  you  ? 

Lady  P.     But  the  service  there  is  very  low? 

Still.     Oh,  very  low — very  low  indeed. 

Lady  P.     And  Galer  is  a  wretched  preacher? 

Still.  Shocking,  dire,  wicked,  bad,  tiresome 
preacher,  yes 

Lady  P.     Then  why  do  you  go  and  hear  him  ? 

Still.  Well,  you  see — he — he's  got  nine  chil- 
dren— one  of  them  stutters — stutters?  I  never 
heard  anybody  stutter  as — as  fluently  as  that  sec- 
ond boy  of  Galer's — so  I  thought,  "Poor  devil ! 
Here's  a  chance  of  doing  good!  I'll  give  him  a 
turn." 

E 


66  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  n 

Lady  P.  (Very  severely.)  Now,  Bill,  answer 
me  truly,  you're  fascinated  with  this  Mrs.  Wren? 

Still.     No — no 

Lady  P.  You've  not  been  making  advances  to 
her? 

Still.     No — no 

LADY  I'.     You  have  no  intentions  towards  her? 

Still     Not  the  least ! 

Lai iv  P.  Because  we  shall  not  know  Mrs. 
Wren  in  Shanctonbury.  Please  bear  that  in  mind 
in  regulating  your  future  behaviour^  to  her.  We 
shall  not  know  her. 

(Trixik's  voice  is  heard  off  in  the  gar- 
den.) 

Trixie.  Mrs.  Wren!  Mrs.  Wren  !  I  haven't 
g-one  yet 

Enters  at  back  to  Stillingfleet's  surprise,  and 
LADY   Pinkney's  surprise  and  horror. 

Lady  P.     Miss  Dlenkinsop!     I  cannot  beli< 
my  eyes ! 

Trixie.     Aunt  and  uncle  know  that  I'm  here. 

Lady  P.  Trixie !  How-  can  you  tell  me  such 
a  dreadful  story? 

Trixie.  (Shrieks  out.)  Oh!  Oh!  Oh! 
That's  just  the  same  as  calling  me  a — bad  name. 
I  may  be  a  horrid  naughty  girl.  Lady  Pinkney — 
And  when  I'm  goaded,  as  you  have  just  goaded 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  67 

me,  nobody  knows  how  abandoned  I  can  be — I 
don't  know  myself.  I'm  capable  of  anything! 
But  bad  as  I  am,  I  do  not  tell  falsehoods,  and  I 
allow  no  one  to  question  my  word. 

Lady  P.  (seising  her  by  the  hand).  Come 
with  me  to  the  Palace  at  once.  I  must  see  the 
Bishop  and  Mrs.  IUenkinsop  about  this  ! 

Trixie    (dragging    away    her    hand).    No! 

After  what  has  just  passed  I  cannot  be  seen  in 
public  with  you.  If  you  go  by  the  road,  I  go  by 
the  footpath !  If  you  go  by  the  footpath,  I  go  by 
the  road ! 

(Marches  off  at  back.) 

Still.  That's  the  young  lady  you  intend  for 
Teddy0 

Lady  P.     Yes. 

Still.     Won't  she  be  rather  a  handful  for  him  ? 

Lady  P.  My  dear  Bill,  we  must  make  haste 
and  marry  Teddy  to  somebody,  or  I  don't  know 
what  will  happen.  And  Trixie  will  have  all  the 
Culverstone  property.  I  must  run  over  to  the 
Palace  and  find  out  what  is  the  meaning  of  her 
visit  here!  (Going  off  at  back,  turns  round.) 
You'd  better  come  with  me. 

Still.  One  moment.  I've  just  one  question 
to  ask  Mrs.  "Wren 

Lady  P.     Question  to  ask  her  ? 

Still.     A  little  technical  question  in  botany. 

Lady  P.     Now  Bill,  I  may  trust  you? 


68                   WHITEWASHING   JULIA             act  ii 
Still,   (reproachfully').     My  dear  Madge 


(Exit  Lady  Pinkney  at  window.    Stil- 

LINGFLEET  folloWS  her  Up.) 

Enter  Jui  i a,  at  door,  with  letter  in  her  hand. 
Julia.     I   thought  I  heard  somebody  shrick- 


uig- 


Still.     We  had  a  little  scene  with  Miss  Blenk- 
insop. 
Julia.    Truriel    Where  is  she? 
STILL,     My   sister  has  taken  her  back  to  the 

Palace. 

Julia.  I've  just  had  this  most  perplexing  let- 
ter.    I  think  you  ought  to  read  it. 

Still     From  whom?  {Taking  letter.') 

Julia.  Mr.  Edwin  Pinkney.  I  didn't  like  to 
show  it  to  Lady  Pinkney.  so  I  took  it  outside  to 
answer. 

Still,  (Reads.)  "Railway  Hotel,  Shancton- 
bury, — Dear  Mrs.  Wren.  You  are  the  only  person 
in  this  ghastly  place  who  has  ever  shown  me  the 
least  spark  of  human  sympathy.  So  I  hope  you 
won't  mind  me  coming  to  you  in  my  hour  of  need. 
If  you  are  at  home  will  you  kindly  spare  me  a  few 
minutes   alone?     Yours   sincerely,    Edwin   Pink- 


' 


Julia.     Has  he  been  away  from  home? 
Still.     Yes,  for  a  few  days.     What  did  you 
reply  ? 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  69 

Julia.  I  wrote  him  that  Lady  Pinkney  was 
with  me,  and  I  should  be  pleased  to  see  him  in  her 
presence,  or  alone  after  she  had  gone. 

Still.  I  wonder  what  fresh  scrape  Teddy  has 
been  getting  into. 

Julia.  Whatever  it  is,  we  must  try  and  help 
him  out  of  it. 

Still,  (looking  at  her  admiringly).  How 
good  that  is  of  you!  (Approaching  her.)  I  did 
a  little  botanizing  yesterday 

Julia.     Ah?     In  our  lane — T  mean  the  lane? 

Still.  It  was  our  lane  when  we  had  it  all  to 
ourselves  the  other  evening.  I  spent  all  yesterday 
afternoon  there,  looking  for  that  little  flower 

Julia.     Which  little  flower? 

Still.  Now  what  do  they  call  it?  I  can't 
remember  its  Latin  name,  but  in  English  I  fancy 
they  call  it  (holding  nearer  to  her)  Love-in-idle- 
ness. 

Julia.     And  you  couldn't  find  it  ? 

Still.  Not  a  single  specimen.  Doesn't  it 
take  two  skilled  gardeners  to  bring  it  to  perfec- 
tion? 

Julia.  Oh  no,  it's  the  commonest  weed.  If 
two  simpletons  meet  down  a  lane,  in  five  minutes 
all  the  banks  blossom  with  it. 

Still.  The  banks  were  barren  enough  yester- 
dav.     Whv  didn't  vou  come? 


70  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

Julia.  I  thought  it  might  not  be  quite,  quite 
prudent. 

Still.  Prudent?  Is  there  any  word  in  the 
language  that  comes  with  so  bad  a  grace  from  a 
woman's  lips  as  "Prudent"! 

Julia.     (  >h.  it's  a  vile  word,  and  we  hate  it 

quite  as  much  as  you  do.     Still  it's  an  eminently 

pectable,  churchgoing  sort  of  word,  and  every 

nice    woman  bilged    to    keep    it    somewhere 

handy. 

Still.     In  the  dictionary? 

Julia.     Oh,  n   '     "Prudence"  is  far  too  useful 
.1  word  to  he  left  in  the  dictionary. 
ell.     Useful?    What  foi 

Julia.  To  play  gooseberry — when  we  go  b"t- 
anizii:. 

STILL.     We'll  take  it  with  •  sorrow,  shall 

(Julia  smiles  and   shakes   her  head   at 
him. ) 
STILL     Then   we'll   go  botanizing  without   it, 
shall  we  ? 

(Julia   smiles   and  shakes   her   head   at 
hi: 
Julia.     Alas!     Our    studies    in    botany    must 
cea- 

STILL,  Cease?!  Am  I  such  a  dull,  backward 
scholar  ? 

Julia.     Dull?     Backward?     You're     far     too 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  71 

advanced  for  me.  You're  getting  quite  out  of 
hand.  I  must  really  dismiss  you.  I've  taught 
you  all  the  botany  I  know. 

Still.     Shall  we  begin  some  other  science? 

Julia.  Shall  we  begin  to  be  serious?  When 
you  came  in  I'd  just  made  a  promise  to  Lady  Pink- 
nev 

Si  ill.     A  promise? 

Julia.  To  let  you  understand  you  will  not  be 
welcome  here  for  the  future. 

§  ;  ill.     What  business  is  it  of  Lady  Pinkney's? 

JULIA.  She  doesn't  take  kindly  to  your  bot- 
anizing. 

Still.  Ah  !  how  inconsistent  you  all  are!  All 
my  life  my  dear  si>ter  has  been  lecturing  me  on 
my  want  of  interest  in  rustic  pleasures  and  de- 
lights. "Bill,  why  don't  you  take  an  interest  in 
simple  country  sights  and  sounds?"  And  now 
when  I  say.  "Aery  well,  lay  me  in  the  lap  of  mother 
nature,  and  let  me  gather  the  roses  and  bladder- 
campions  while  I  may,"  is  she  pleased?  Xo. 
She  calls  and  cuts  off  my  botany  lessons.  The 
same  with  my  going  to  church.  "Bill,  why  don't 
you  at  least  so  far  conform  to  outward  respecta- 
bility as  to  be  seen  in  your  place  at  church  on  Sun- 
day mornings?"  And  I  think,  "That's  good  ad- 
vice! I'll  give  poor  Galer  a  turn."  Does  she 
welcome  the  returning  penitent  back  to  the  fold? 
No,   she   runs   amuck   at  Galer's   doctrines,   and 


WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

knocks  theology  off  my  list  as  an  unnecessary 
extra — like  botany.  Now  isn't  she  irrational  ? 
(Julia  shakes  her  head  at  him  and  smiles.)  My 
pretty  teacher,  (coming  closer  to  Iter)  you  don't 
really  mean  to  dismiss  me? 

Julia.     I've  promised  Lady  Pinkney. 

Still.  Lady  Pinkney!  Surely  you  and  I  can 
be  allowed  to  choose  our  own  friends. 

Julia.  Can  we?  It  doesn't  seem  that  I  can 
choose  my  own  friends.  I've  been  here  over  two 
months  and  I  haven't  a  single  friendjn  the  place. 

STILL.     You  have  one. 

Julia.  No.  A  man  cannot  be  a  woman's 
friend  unless — 

Still.     Unless? 

Julia.  Unless  a  woman  has  heaps  of  women- 
friends  b<  him  ;  women-friends  who  won't 
be  jealous  of  her.  and  won't  misunderstand  his 
friendship?  I  have  no  women-friends — not  one. 
And  our  friendship  would  be  misunderstood  in 
Shanctonbury — horribly  misunderstood. 

Still.  It  shall  not  be  misunderstood.  I'll  let 
everybody  know  that  you  are  my  friend. 

Julia.  (Smiles  and  shakes  her  head.)  That 
would  only  make  me  more  disliked  and  suspected 
than  I  am  already.  Xo !  I  must  dismiss  you, 
dear  pupil,  and  leave  Shanctonbury. 

Still.     Leave  Shanctonbury! 

Julia.     Lady    Pinkney    brought    me    a    very 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  73 

handsome  offer  from  Miss  Fewings  to  take  this 
house  for  a  number  of  years. 

Still.  Miss  Fewings!  You  surely  won't  let 
The  Mount  to  her. 

Julia.  Yes,  I  think.  If  I  stay  here  and  re- 
main friends  with  you,  I  shall  only  estrange  you 
from  your  sister.  I  shouldn't  like  to  do  that.  I 
should  like  still  less  to  stay  in  Shanctonbury  and 
not  be  friends  with  you. 

Still.  You  shall  stay  in  Shanctonbury.  and 
you  shall  be  friends  with  me.  (She  smiles  and 
shakes  her  head.)  Yes,  my  chief  friend,  (She 
smiles  and  shakes  her  Jiead.)  my  only  friend  !  My 
wife!     Nobody  can  misunderstand  that! 

Julia.  Thank  you  very  much.  But  I  must 
not  accept  you — for  your  own  sake. 

Still.  Ah,  let  me  be  the  judge  of  that.  Be 
my  wife,  for  my  sake 


JULIA.     But  if  in  after  years ? 

Still.     Let  after  years  take  care  of  themselves. 

Julia.     What  shall  I  say? 

Still.  Nothing.  All  is  said.  (Kisses  her.) 
We'll  go  botanizing  to-morrow  (She  nods.)  with- 
out that  old  fossil  chaperon  ''Prudence"? 

Julia.  Oh.  no!  No!  \Ye  must  take  her 
with  us  more  than  ever  now.     Don't  you  see  that  ? 

Still.  Yes.  you're  right.  And  perhaps  it  will 
be  better  not  to  announce  our  engagement  to  my 
sister,  just  for  the  time,  eh? 


74  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

Julia.  I  shall  leave  it  all  to  you.  Tell  Lady 
Pinkney  and  your  other  friends  just  when  you 
think  the  right  moment  has  come  for  it. 

Still.     That  won't  be  to-day. 

Enter  Meade  at  door. 
Meade.     (Announces.}     Mr.  Edwin  Pinkney. 

Enter  Teddy  at  door,  in  !<>!!■'  summer  overcoat 
and  low  hat,  as  if  he  had  just  come  off  a  jour- 
ney. 

(Exit  Meade.) 

Teddy.  {Embarrassed,  looking  round  appre- 
hensively.) Ilillo!  Uncle  Bill!  How  d'ye  do, 
Mr>.  Wren"  (Looking  round  as  he  advances  to 
shake  hands  with  her.)  I  saw  the  old  lady  going 
down  the  road. 

Julia.     Yes,  she  has  gone.     How  d'ye  do. 
iDY.     Thanks.  I'm  a  bit  slack,  off  colour. 

Julia.     I'm  so  sorry 

Teddy.  Thanks  awfully.  (Shakes  her  hand, 
retains  it.  Stands  embarrassed,  and  maunders 
on.)  Thanks.  It's  this  hole  of  a  place,  (indicat- 
ing the  city  from  the  window)  and  then  there's 
the  old  lady — and  all  the  Blenkinsop  gang — Well, 
it's  a  gruesome  state  of  affairs,  isn't  it  ?  How- 
ever, I  hope  I've  got  one  true  friend  in  Shancton- 
bury.  (Wringing  Julia's  hand,  which  he  has 
retained.) 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  75 

Julia.  (Very  much  embarrassed.)  You  have 
indeed. 

{Glances  helplessly  around  at  Stilling- 
fleet,  who  comes  up  to  them.) 

Teddy.  That's  why  I  came  straight  here.  I 
thought  I  might  find  you  alone. 

(Glancing  at  Stillingfleet.) 

Still.  How  are  you,  Teddy?  Got  back  to 
Shanctonbury  ? 

Teddy.     Yes. 

Still.     Mother  know  you're  here? 

Teddy.     No. 

Still.     That's  had.  isn't  it? 

Teddy.     No,  not  under  the  circumstances. 

Still.     What  circumstances? 

Teddy.  Well — I  should  like  to  consult  Mrs. 
Wren — privately,  if 

Still.  You  can't  do  better.  Trust  her  thor- 
oughly, my  boy.  (Going  off  at  back.) 

Julia.  Mr.  Stillingfleet.  you  won't  go  very 
far,  in  case  we  need  your  advice. 

(He  makes  her  a  sign  and  goes  off  at 
window. ) 

Teddy.  (Embarrassed,  hesitates,  at  length 
plunges.)  You  know — I'm  in  a  situation  that 
peculiarly  demands  the  exercise  of  a  little  femi- 
nine tact  and  sympathy.  There's  nothing  that 
picks  a  man  up  like  feminine  sympathy.  (Julia 
makes  a  sympathetic  assent.)     Especially  when 


76  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

he's  in  the  midst  of  events  that  may  shape  them- 
selves into  a — into  a  kind  of  social  revolution 

Julia.  [.Harmed.)  Social  revolution! 
You're  not  going  to  head  a  social  revolution  ? 

Teddy.  Yes — in  a  minor  kind  of  way  (Julia 
looks  helplessly  round  for  Stillingfleet.)  that 
is,  with  your  aid  and  sympathy 

Julia.  ( )h,  but  I've  no  sort  of  sympathy  with 
social  revolutions ! 

Teddy.     But  it's  for  your  especial  benefit 

Julia.  My  benefit?  I'm  sure  nobody  ever 
benefits  by  social  revolutions. 

Teddy.  You  would,  if  you  only  had  the  cour- 
age to  face  it. 

Julia.     Courage?     I  don't  understand. 

(Looking  round  for  Stillingfleet.) 

Teddy.  When  you  came  to  live  in  Shancton- 
bury,  what  did  all  the  Shanctonbury  dowagers  do? 
Did  they  call  on  you?  Did  they  put  your  name 
on  their  committees,  and  ask  you  for  subscrip- 
tions? Did  they  invite  you  to  their  muffin-meet- 
ings? How  have  the  Blenkinsops  treated  you? 
And  I  thought  you  might  like  to  take  a  neat  little 
revenge  on  the  whole  gang. 

Julia.     How  ? 

Teddy.  Well,  with  my  help  and  countenance, 
and — (Embarrassed.)  the  help  and  countenance 
of  some  friends  I  am  about  to  introduce  into  the 
neighbourhood 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  77 

Julia.  You're  going  to  introduce  some  friends 
into  the  neighbourhood? 

Teddy.  Yes — rather  jolly  people — in  their 
way.  And  I  thought  we  might  get  up  a  nice 
select  little  coterie  of  social  outsiders,  and  snap 
our  fingers  at  everybody. 

Julia.  But  social  outsiders  don't  form  nice 
little  coteries,  do  they?     I'm  sure  they  don't. 

Teddy.  Oh  yes  they  do — in  a  sense.  Byron 
and  Shelley  were  social  outsiders 

Julia.  Yes,  but  nobody  called  on  Byron  or 
Shelley — at  least  not  on  the  ladies  who — a — who 
a — not  when  they  were  writing  their  most  beauti- 
ful poetry. 

Teddy.  (Very  much  disappointed.)  But  I 
— a — wanted  to  introduce  my  friends  to  vou 

Julia.  I  should  be  delighted,  but — I'll  call 
Mr.  Stillingfleet. 

Teddy.  No — Uncle  Bill  has  got  no  real  sym- 
pathy, and  it's  a  little  human  sympathy  I  want  in 
the  present  juncture. 

Julia.     Juncture!     What  juncture? 

Teddy.  (Solemnly.)  Mrs.  Wren,  I've  always 
tried  to  behave  in  a  strictly  honourable  way 
towards  women — I'm  not  boring  you  ? 

Julia.     No — no — go  on. 

Teddy.  And  I  mean  to  act  in  a  strictly  honour- 
able way  towards  this  one. 

Julia.     Which  one? 


78  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  n 

Teddy.  This  one.  I'm  not  going  to  be 
ashamed  of  her.  Especially  as  I'm  going  to 
marry  her  next  month. 

Julia.  What?  You're  going  to  be  married! 
And  Lady  Pinkney  doesn't  know  ? 

Teddy.  No.  You  see,  I  thought  the  old  lady 
might  shy  a  bit  at  Rosie's  mamma — so  I've  come 
to  you — as  a  friend 

Julia.  Rosie?  Who  is  this  young  lady? 
Does  she  live  in  Shanctonbury  ? 

TEDDY.  No — she's  never  been  here  before — 
except  on  the  day  of  the  curate's  bazaar.  I 
brought  her  and  her  mother  down  then,  so  that 
they  might  see  Shanctonbury  in  all  its  glory. 

Julia.     Where  are  they  now? 

Teddy.  Just  outside  in  the  road  waiting  for 
your  decision. 

Julia.  You  must  tell  Lady  Pinkney  about  her 
at  once,  and  I  must  tell  Mr.  Stillingfleet. 

Teddy.  Xo — if  you  don't  allow  me  to  bring 
her  here  as  my  fiancee,  I  shall  simply  cart  her  back- 
to  town,  and  say  nothing  to  anybody  till  it's  all 
over.  But  I  brought  her  here  on  purpose  to 
introduce  her  to  you. 

Julia.  (Embarrassed.)  Well — of  course  I 
should  be  delighted  if — if  Mr.  Stillingfleet  were 
present. 

Teddy.     I  don't  trust  L'ncle  Bill 

Julia.     Oh,  I'm  sure  you  may.     Now  go  and 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  79 

bring  her  in,  and  I'll  tell  Mr.  Stillingfleet.     Yes, 
yes,  he  must  know ! 

Teddy.     Well — a — all  right — but  you  know  it's 

feminine  sympathy  I  want  and 

(Exit  at  door,  left.) 
Julia.     (Shozcs  great  perplexity,  goes  to  win- 
dow, calls.)     Mr.  Stillingfleet ! 

Still.  (Enters  at  window.)  Yes — (looks 
round  for  Teddy.)  My  sister  has  come  back 
from  the  Palace.  She  wants  to  see  you  about 
Trixie.  I  haven't  told  her  Teddy  was  here. 
Where  is  Teddy? 

(Looking    round    for    Teddy.      Julia 
sJiozcs  great  perplexity.) 

Lady  Pinkney  enters  at  window. 

Lady  P.  I  wish  to  have  two  minutes'  impor- 
tant conversation  with  you.     May  I  come  in? 

Julia.     Yes — do,  please.  (Rings  bell.) 

Lady  P.  I've  taken  Miss  Blenkinsop  to  the 
Palace.  I  believe  she  has  been  in  the  habit  of  vis- 
iting you  here? 

Julia.     It  has  been  quite  against  my  wish. 

Lady  P.     Yes,  so  she  said. 

Enter  Meade  at  door,  left. 

Julia.  Oh,  Meade,  if  anyone  comes,  please 
show  them  into  the  dining-room,  and  say  that  I 
will  be  there  in  a  few  minutes. 


80  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  u 

Meade.     Yes,  ma'am.  (Exit.) 

Lady  P.  I  was  certainly  not  aware  when  I 
was  here  just  now  that  Miss  Blenkinsop  had  been 
visiting  you.  That  puts  a  new  complexion  on  the 
object  of  my  visit.  Now,  if  you're  going  to  re- 
main in  our  midst,  wouldn't  it  be  better  to  accept 
my  suggestion  ? 

Julia.     What  is  that? 

Lady  P.  Give  me  a  full  explanation  of  these 
little  matters  we  were  speaking  of,  and  let  me 
clear  you  from  any  further  scandal.  You  would 
prefer  my  brother  should  be  absent?  * 

Julia.     Xo,  please  don't  go,  Mr.  Stillingfleet. 

Lady  P.  But,  my  dear,  you  would  surely  pre- 
fer to  treat  this  as  a  matter  of  confidence  between 
you  and  me. 

Enter  Teddy,  at  back,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Ben- 
bow,  a  middle-aged  woman,  about  fifty,  a  little 
aggressively  dressed,  and  Rosie  Benbow,  her 
daughter,  a  very  handsome  common  girl  about 
twenty-live. 

Teddy.     Excuse  our  coming  this   way,   Mrs. 

Wren 

(Stops  on  seeing  Lady  Pinkney.) 

Lady  P.  Teddy!  Who  are  these  ladies? 
They're  not  friends  of  yours? 

Teddy.  Well — yes — a — it's  all  right.  (To 
Mrs.  Benbow.)     It's  my  mother ! 


act  n  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  81 

Mrs.  B.  (offering  to  shake  hands).  Very 
pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance,  ma'am — my 
lady.  Let  me  introduce  you  to  Teddy's  intended, 
(Introducing)  my  daughter,  Rosie — Lady  Pink- 
ney — Lady  Pinkney — Miss  Rosa  Benbow. 

Rosie.     How  d'ye  do,  my  lady? 

Lady  P.     Teddy  !     This  is  not  true? 

Teddy.  Xo.  At  least — I  dare  say  it  is  rather 
a  surprise,  but — you  know 

Lady  P.  (To  Stillixgfleet.)  Did  you 
know  anything  of  this  ? 

Still.  Not  a  word  till  this  moment.  Nor,  I 
am  sure,  did  Mrs.  Wren. 

Lady  P.  But  it's  not  true  !  It  can't  be  true ! 
(To  Teddy.)     Why  don't  you  answer? 

Teddy.  Well,  I — a — you  know — I  rather  think 
you'll  like  Rosie  when  you  come  to  know  her. 

Lady  P.  (gathering  herself  up,  to  Stilling- 
fleet.  )     You'd  better  take  me  home,  I  think. 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  my  lady,  there's  no  occasion  to 
get  into  a  fluster.  Though  I  am  her  mother,  I  will 
say  a  better  brought-up  girl  than  my  Rosie  isn't  to 
be  found  in  any  class.  She's  fit  to  mix  in  any 
society.  There  she  stands,  and  you  can  judge  for 
yourself! 

Rosie.  Oh,  please  don't  apologize  for  me, 
mother. 

Mrs.  B.  Hold  your  tongue,  Rosie.  And  I'm 
sure,  my  lady,  if  you'll  only  look  on  it  in  the  right 

F 


82  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii 

light,  you'll  see  that  when  two  young  folks  are 
really  fond  of  each  other  there's  nothing  for  their 
parents  to  do  but  to  stand  aside  and  bless  their 
union.  (Approaching  Lady  Pixkxkv,  who  in- 
dignantly  draws  herself  away. )  And  as  for  your 
superior  rank  and  station,  my  lady — well — (Beam- 
ing on  Stillingfleet) — we're  all  equal  in  the 
eyes  of  Heaven,  aren't  we? 

Still.  I  hope  not.  my  dear  lady.  I  sincerely 
hope  not.  (  Turning  to  Teddy.)  Teddy,  how 
far  has  this  gom 

Teddy.     Well.  I — a 

Still.     Are  you  engaged  to  this  young  lady? 

Teddy.  Well,  I — I  suppose  I  am  ;  and  as  an 
honourable  man — I  shall  have  to  see  it  through. 
eh  ? 

Still.     Have  you  written  her  any  letters? 

Mrs.  11.  i  lh,  lots  of  'em.  And  so  sweetly 
picturesque.     It's  quite  a  romance  in  real  life! 

Still.  May  I  ask  you  where  you  live — Mrs. 
—  ?     What  is  your  name? 

Mrs.  B.  Benbow.  I'll  give  you  one  of  my 
cards.  (Taking  out  an  old  wooden  card-case, 
and  from  it  two  or  three  greasy  cards,  one  of 
which  she  presents  to  Stillixgfleet.)  Rosie. 
this  is  your  future  Uncle  William — if  not  pre- 
suming, sir,  I  understand  you  are  our  future 
Uncle  William. 

Still,   (bowing  slightly  to  Rosie).     Future — 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  83 

yes — future — Now  I  think,  Mrs.  Benbow,  you 
and  I  had  better  discuss  this  together. 

Mrs.  B.  Very  pleased,  I'm  sure,  but  there 
ain't  much  to  discuss,  because  the  happy  day  is 
already  fixed,  and  the  banns  are  to  be  asked  for 
the  first  time  next  Sunday. 

Lady  P.  (Very  much  upset.)  What?!  I 
shall  put  this  into  my  lawyer's  hands.  My  poor 
boy  has  been  entrapped  ! 

Mrs.  B.  Entrapped?  What  did  you  say,  my 
lady?     Look  at  that  dear  girl  there 

Rosie.  Oh.  please  don't  be  personal,  mother. 
Do  stand  a  little  on  your  dignity,  and  don't  lower 
yourself  by  arguing. 

Mrs.  B.  Hold  your  tongue,  Rosie.  En- 
trapped is  a  very  flagrant  word  for  one  lady  to 
use  to  another.  And  I  must  ask  you  to  with- 
draw it,  my  lady. 

Lady  P.  (Sweeps  by  her:  to  Stilling- 
fleet.  )     Will  you  please  see  me  back  to  the  Hall  ? 

(Going  off  at  back.) 

Still.  Xo,  stay — we  can't  leave  this  as  it 
stands 

Julia.  (Who  has  been  quietly  watching  all 
the  while.)  Lady  Pinkney,  one  moment.  Mrs. 
Benbow,  I  have  a  suggestion  to  make  to  Lady 
Pinkney,  which  may  be  to  your  daughter's  inter- 
est. 

Mrs.  B.     Very  pleased,  I'm  sure. 


84  WHITEWASHING    JULIA  act  11 

Julia.  Will  you  and  Miss  Benbow  kindly  go 
into  the  drawing-room  for  a  minute,  and  I'll  come 
to  you  there.  ( Opening  door. ) 

Mrs.  B.     Well,  ma'am 

Julia.  I  shall  be  able  to  advise  you,  I  think. 
(Calls  off.)  Meade,  please  show  these  ladies 
into  the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  B.     You'll  come  with  us  too,  Teddy? 

Teddy.     Well,  I eh? 

(Hesitating,  looks  helplessly  all  round.) 

ROSIE.  Yotl  won't  desert  me,  T^eddy.  after  all 
your  promises  and  lett<  I 

Teddy.     <  >h,  I'm  going  to  see  it  through 

R<  sie.     0  *me  with  us,  then. 

(Exeunt  Rosie  and  Mrs.  Benbow.) 

Trudy.  (To  Julia,  with  a  sickly  smile.)  I 
suppose  I'd  better  go  with  them,  eh? 

Julia.     Yes,  I  think. 

(Exit  Teddy.     She  closes  the  door  after 
him.) 

Lady  F.  What  is  to  be  done?  What  can  be 
done?     What  will  Pinkney  say? 

Julia.  Dear  Lady  Pinkney.  will  you  think  me 
intrusive  if  I  make  a  suggestion? 

Lady  P.  No — no — when  did  you  first  know 
of  this  ? 

Julia.  Only  a  moment  before  you  came.  He 
called  and  asked  my  permission  to  introduce  them, 
and  of  course  I  insisted  that  you  and  Mr.  Stilling- 


act  ii  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  85 

fleet  should  know.  You  believe  me,  I  am  sure, 
and  you  will  let  me  help  you  out  of  this  difficulty 
if  I  can. 

Lady  P.     How? 

Julia.  If  I  were  you  I  should  not  oppose  this 
marriage 


Lady  P.     Not  oppose  it  ? ! 

Julia.  Not  for  the  moment.  The  banns  are  to 
be  asked.  Your  first  step  must  be  to  gain  time. 
Tell  them  that  the  marriage  cannot  take  place 
till  Lord  Pinkney  returns  from  Australia,  and  that 
you  think  they  ought  not  to  see  each  other  mean- 
time. But  that  if  the  attachment  lasts  for  six 
months  you  will  try  to  meet  their  wishes. 

Lady  P.     Meet  their  wishes?! 

Julia.  You  will  try — in  six  months.  And  if 
you  will  allow  me  to  help  you  still  further 

Lady  P.     My  dear  Mrs.  Wren 

Julia.  I  will  suggest  they  should  take  a  trip 
to  the  seaside  or  to  the  Continent,  and  I  will  spare 
them  my  servant  Meade.  I  can  trust  Meade 
thoroughly,  and  I'm  sure  she  will  look  after — 
their  comforts.  A  great  deal  may  happen  in  six 
months. 

Still.  (JJlio  has  been  listening  and  showing 
approval.)  Excellent!  My  dear  Mrs.  Wren! 
I  congratulate  you !  It's  a  great  scheme !  I'm 
sure  my  sister  is  very  grateful  to  you ! 

Julia.     Shall  I  suggest  it  to  them  ? 


86                   WHITEWASHING   JULIA             act  ii 
Lady  P.     Well,  there  could  be  no  harm 


Still.  Harm!  My  dear  Madge.  It's  a  tre- 
mendous scheme. 

Julia.  If  you  will  leave  them  with  me  I'll  try 
and  get  them  to  accept  it. 

Lady  P.  Thank  you  very  much.  Then  will 
you  please  tell  my  son  that  I'm  waiting  for  him? 

Julia.  I  think  you'd  better  let  him  stay  for  a 
time.  I  have  to  soften  the  process  of  saying  adieu 
to  the  young  lady,  and  get  them  to  part  for  six 
months.  Then  I  have  to  work  upon  Mrs.  Ben- 
bow.     I'm  afraid  she'll  need  some  managing 


Lady  P.  Dear  Mrs.  Wren.  I'll  leave  the  mat- 
ter entirely  in  your  hands.  I'm  infinitely  obliged 
to  you.  Good-bye.  You'll  let  me  know  how  you 
succeed?     I'll  go  this  way  if  you  don't  mind,  as 

I've  no  wish  to  meet {Comes  back.)     Now, 

Bill.     (Exit.) 

(Stillingfleet  goes  up  to  window  and 
then  he  deliberately  drops  his  gloves 
in   sight   of  Julia.     Exit   Stillixg- 
fleet.    She  goes  and  picks  them  up.) 
Still.     (Off.)     One   moment,   Madge!     I've 
left  my  gloves!     I'll  join  you  directly.     (He  re- 
enters, takes  her  hand  and  says.)     In  six  months, 

a  great  deal  may  happen 

(He  goes  up.     She  goes  to  door.     They 
kiss  hands,  and 

Curtain. 


ACT  III 

Scene — Drawing-room  at  Lady  Pinckney's,  Shanc- 
tonbury  Hall.  A  large,  dignified,  squarely-built  room 
in  an  English  mansion.  At  back  are  three  large,  long 
windows,  curtained  in  red  damask  or  velvet.  Down 
stage,  left,  a  large  fireplace  with  fire  burning.  Right,  a 
large,  handsome  cabinet,  surrounded  by  old  pictures, 
chiefly  family  portraits.  A  door  up  stage,  right,  above 
the  cabinet.  A  door  down  stage,  right,  below  the  cabi- 
net. A  door  up  stage,  left,  above  the  fireplace.  A  cozy 
'♦  sofa  above  the  fireplace,  facing  direct  towards  audience. 
A  table,  right,  in  front  of  cabinet. 

Time— Midwinter,  about  half-past  six  in  the  evening. 
The  room  lighted.     The  curtains  at  back  drawn. 

Discover  Bevis,  rather  impatiently  walking   up 
and    dozen.     Enter    Griggs,    the    butler,    left, 
showing   in   Sam  ways.     Samways   has  some 
papers  in  his  hands. 
Griggs.     I'll  tell  her  ladyship  you're  here,  sir. 

(Exit  Griggs.) 
Samways.     (Comes     dozen,     looking     over 

papers.)     How  d'ye  do? 

Bevis.     (Rather    curtly.)     How    d'ye    do? 

87 


88  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  in 

(Shaking  hands.)     This  is  an  extraordinary  story 
about  my  brother. 

Sam  ways.  (Chuckles.)  Yes — curious,  isn't 
it?  (( 'huckling.  ) 

Bevis.  I  see  no  reason  for  laughter.  (Sam- 
ways  pulls  himself  up.)  How  is  it  that  I've  been 
kept  in  ignorance  all  through  ?  Why  has  every- 
thing been  done  behind  my  back? 

Sam  ways.  Well,  Lady  Pinkney  thought,  and 
Mr.  Stillingfleet  thought,  that  having  regard  to 
your  peculiar  susceptibilities  and  your,  conned 
with  the  Bishop's  family,  they  wouldn't  make  you 
uncomfortable  by  telling  you  anything  about  it 
till  it  was  all  over. 

Bevis.     Then  it  is  all  over? 

Sam  ways.     Yes — thanks  to  Mrs.  Wren. 

Bevis.     Mrs.  Wren? 

Sam  ways.  I've  got  all  your  brotner's  letters 
here,  and  the  young  lady's  acknowledgment  of 
the  five  hundred  pounds  I've  paid  her  in  discharge 
of  your  brother's  promise. 

Bevis.     Five  hundred  pounds  ! 

Sam  ways.  Yes — it  was  five  thousand  last 
time;  so  it  would  have  lie  en  this,  if  Mrs.  Wren 
hadn't  managed  it. 

Bevis.  Oh,  we  are  indebted  to  Mrs.  Wren — 
for  what? 

Sam  ways.  Well,  she  arranged  to  get  the 
mother  and  the  girl  away  to  the  Continent,  in 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  89 

charge  of  her  confidential  servant,  Meade — clever 
woman  that.  After  a  month  or  so  Meade's  sus- 
picions are  aroused  with  regard  to  the  young 
lady's  conduct,  and  she  very  properly  writes  to 
Mrs.  Wren,  who  very  properly  informs  me,  and 
I  very  properly  have  the  young  lady  watched, 
with  results  that  prove  that  she — the  young  lady 
— is  not  behaving  very  properly.  I  hasten  over 
to  Paris,  have  an  interview  with  the  young  lady 
and  mamma.  Mamma  is  shrewd  enough  to  see 
4hat  if  she  can  keep  the  letters  in  her  possession 
there  is  a  chance  of  blackmailing  us.  So  I  detach 
the  young  lady  and  drive  a  bargain  with  her  be- 
hind mamma's  back.  She  steals  the  letters  from 
;  mamma's  box,  gives  them  to  me,  signs  this  docu- 
ment. I  hand  her  the  money  in  golden  sovereigns, 
treat  myself  to  an  exceedingly  good  dinner,  and 
take  the  night  train  back.  There !  Now  you 
know  all  about  it. 

Enter  Lady  Pinkney,  left. 
Lady  P.     Ah,  Mr.  Samwavs 


Sam  ways  (shaking  hands).     How  d'ye  do? 

Lady  P.  Oh,  Bevis,  Sophie  has  just  sent  your 
man  across  to  say  that  your  cook  has  been  drink- 
ing again,  and  seems  likely  to  make  a  hash,  not 
only  of  the  dinner,  but  of  the  kitchen  furniture. 
She  thinks  you'd  better  step  home  at  once 


90  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

Bevis.  I  wish  to  know,  first,  about  this  dis- 
graceful affair  of  Teddy's 

Lady  P.  There  is  no  disgraceful  affair;  its 
quite  concluded. 

Bevis.  But  it's  important  for  Sophie  and  me 
to  know  how  far  Mrs.  Wren  has  moved  in  the 
matter. 

Lady  P.  It's  far  more  important  for  you  to 
know  how  far  your  cook  is  spoiling  your  dinner. 
S<  tphie  wishes  you  to  go  at  once. 

Bevis.  I'll  come  over  again.  Samways,  you 
and  I  will  have  a  further  talk  over  tliis. 

Sam  ways.     By  all  means  Mr.  Bevis. 

(Exit  Bevis.  left.     Sam  ways  turns  in- 
quiringly to  Lady  Pixkxey.) 

Lady  P.     Now — have  you  got  Teddy's  letters? 

Samways.  There  they  are.  (Lady  Link xey 
takes  them.)  I  don't  think  I'd  look  at  them — 
they're  of  the  sort  that  are  onlv  amusing  when 
they're  read  out  in  Court.  And  here's  the  girl's 
undertaking  not  to  molest — I've  drawn  it  up  very 
strictly.     Shall  I  keep  it? 

L  a  d  v  P.  Yes.  you'd  better.  And  this 
wretched  business  is  now  at  an  end? 

Samways.     Quite.     Except 

Lady  P.     What? 

Samways.  a  rrs.  Benbow  may  give  you  a  little 
trouble. 

Lady  P.     How? 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  91 

Sam  ways.  The  girl  had  to  break  open  her 
mother's  box  to  get  her  letters.  When  the  mother 
discovered  the  letters  were  in  my  possession,  she 
came  to  my  hotel  and  raised  a  bit  of  a  storm.  She 
may  possibly  bluster  and  threaten  you.  Don't  be 
alarmed!  She  can  do  nothing.  If  she  does  turn 
up,  hand  her  over  to  me,  and  I'll  soon  damp  her 
down. 

Lady  P.  I'll  keep  these  letters.  Thank  you 
very  much,  Samways. 

Sam  ways.  Oh,  don't  thank  me.  It's  Mrs. 
Wren  you  should  thank. 

Lady  P.  Yes — I  know.  Now  I  wish  to  con- 
sult you  in  the  strictest  professional  confidence — 

Samways.     Certainly. 

Lady  P.  What  is  the  status  of  people  who 
have  contracted  a  morganatic  marriage? 

Samways.  (Samways'  face  drops.)  Morga- 
natic marriage? 

Lady  P.     Yes 

Sam  ways.  Well  —  broadly  speaking  —  their 
status  is  the  same  as  that  of  people  who  have  con- 
tracted an  ordinary  marriage. 

Lady  P.     But  there  are  exceptions  ? 

Samways.     Oh  yes. 

Lady  P.     Such  as — for  instance ? 

Samways.     Such  as — for  instance ? 

Lady   P.     A   foreign   Royal  Duke  would   be 


92  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  in 

allowed  very  considerable  latitude  in  making  his 
marriage  arrangements? 

Sam  ways.     Yes — yes — certainly 

Lady  P.  Suppose  the  foreign  Royal  Duke 
found  himself  already  married 

S  a  m  w  a  y  s.     Ye  s 

Lady  P.     To  a  terribly  unsuitable  person 

Sam  ways.     Yes 

Lady  P.  And  wished  to  contract  a  morga- 
natic marriage — a  strictly  honourable  morganatic 
marriage  with  another  lady — What  would  his 
position  be? 

SAMWAYS.  Well,  broadly  speaking,  his  posi- 
tion would  be  that  of  a  i^'at  many  worthy  mar- 
ried men  of  all  ranks,  who  find  themselves  mar- 
ried to  terribly  unsuitable  persons,  and  who  wish 
to  contract  strictly  honourable  marriages  with 
other  ladies. 

Lady  P.  The  law  wouldn't  permit  him  to  do 
it? 

Sam  ways.     There  might  be  some  difficulty. 

Lady  P.     In  that  case,  what  would  he  do? 

Sam  ways.     Well — that  depends. 

Lady  P.  If  he  were  to  contract  say — not  a 
formal  morganatic  marriage,  but  something 
equivalent  to  a  morganatic  marriage? 

Sam  ways.     Yes' 

Lady  P.  How  far  would  it  be  recognized  as 
legal  ? 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  93 

Samways.     Where  ? 

Lady  P.     Here  ?     Or  on  the  Continent  ? 

Samways.  Well — a — there  would  always  be 
some  suspicion  attaching  to  it  in  Western  Europe. 

Lady  P.     But — in  Eastern 

Samways.  Well,  broadly  speaking,  we  may 
say  that  the  further  East  we  go,  the  more  recog- 
nition would  be  accorded  to  it.  But  the  law  is  in 
such  a  chaos,  I  wouldn't  venture  off-hand  to  give 
an  opinion. 

Sn  1.1.1  xgfleet  oitcrs,  right,  in  evening  dress. 

Lady  P.  Really  the  whole  affair  is  most  em- 
barrassing! 

Still.     What     is    embarrassing?     How     do, 
'Samways? 

Samways.     How  are  you? 

(Slinking  Jiauds.) 

Lady  P.  You're  dressed,  Bill — what's  the 
time?     I  shall  be  late  for  dinner. 

Still.  Don't  distress  yourself.  It  isn't  seven 
yet.  I  came  home  after  a  long  day  with  the 
hounds,  and  was  glad  to  get  into  my  evening 
clothes.     But  what's  worrying  you? 

Lady  P.  Mrs.  Wren.  I  must  make  her  some 
recognition,  don't  you  think? 

Still.     Recognition  ? !     Certainly  you  must. 

Lady  P.  I've  asked  her  to  look  in  this  even- 
ing and  stay  dinner. 


94  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

Still.     You've  asked  her  to  dinner  ? ! 

Lady  P.  Not  formally.  If  Bevis  and  the 
Blenkinsops  knew  that  I'd  invited  Mrs.  Wren  to 
dinner,  I  should  never  hear  the  last  of  it.  But 
now,  if  they  get  to  know  of  it.  I  can  say,  and  yon 
will  say,  that  I  had  to  see  her  on  this  business  of 
Idy's;  and  that  as  dinner  was  approaching,  I 
asked  her  as  a  mere  civility  to  stay. 

STILL.  Then  you  haven't  invited  anybody  to 
meet  her? 

Lady  P.  My  dear  Bill!  There  jvill  he  your- 
self, and  myself,  and  Teddy,  and  (Sees  Sam- 
ways.)  Mr.  Samways,  you're  not  engaged  for 
dinr 

Sam  ways.     No 

Lady  1'.     Then  you'll  join  us? 

Samways.     Delighted.     (Takes    out   zvatch.) 

I'll  just  hurry  hack  and  dr.. 

Lady  P.     Yes — You're  passing  the  Mount? 

Samways.    I  could  go  that  way. 

\nv  P.  In  writing  to  Mrs.  Wren  and  sug- 
gesting she  should  dine  with  us  to-night,  in  a  quite 
informal  way,  I  said  it  would  be  an  immense  re- 
lief to  all  of  us  if  she  would  clear  up  these — insinu- 
ations, eh  ? 

Samways.     (Cordially.)     By  all  means. 

Lady  P.  I've  suggested  that  if  she  doesn't  care 
to  speak,  she  might  give  me  in  confidence  some 
little  statement  in  writing — eh  ? 


act  m  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  95 

Sam  ways.     Yes,  in  writing-. 

Lady  P.  I  should  then  be  able  to  assure  every- 
body that  she  had  absolutely  dispelled  these — 
slanders. 

Sam  ways.  Yes — that  course  commends  itself 
to  me. 

Lady  P.  Then  you  will  urge  her  to  adopt  that 
course  ? 

Sam  ways.     Yes — I  will 

Lady  P.  I  don't  think  you  have  managed  this 
business  very  cleverly 

Sam  ways.     Lady  Pinkney! 

Lady  P.  You  are  a  lawyer !  Surely  by  this 
time  you  ought  either  to  have  given  us  satisfac- 
tory account  of  the  puff-box,  or  to  have  estab- 
lished the  morganatic  marriag 

Sam  ways.     My  dear  Lady  Pinkney — 

Lady  P.  You've  muddled  it,  Samways.  you've 
muddled  it  very  badly  !     Till  dinner  then  ? 

Samways.     Till  dinner! 

Enter  Griggs,  left,  shotting  in  Julia  zeith  a  cloak 
over  a  dinner  dress,  and  Trixie  Blexkixsop 
in  winter  afternoon  dress. 

Griggs.  (Announcing.)  Mrs.  Wren!  Miss 
Blenkinsop ! 

Enter  Julia  and  Trixie.     Exit  Griggs. 


96  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  hi 

Lady  P.     How  d'ye  do? 

Julia  (shaking  hands).  How  d'ye  do? 
(Tunis  to  Stillixgfleet.)     How  d'ye  do? 

Still.     How  d'ye  do? 

Julia.     Cousin  Tom,  how  are  you? 

Sam  ways  (shaking  hands).  Very  well,  my 
dear.  Going  to  meet  you  here  at  dinner.  Good- 
bye till  then.  ( I  funics  off  left.) 

Julia.  It's  barely  seven,  but  you  said,  "Look 
in  a  little  before  dinner  and  stay."  I  hope  I 
haven't  interpreted  my  invitation  too  liberally? 

Lady  P.    Not  at  all. 

(Lady     Pinkney    and     Trixie     hair 
severely  taken  no  notice  of  each  other. ) 

Julia.  It's  this  naughty  girl  who  is  the  cause 
of  my  coming  -  irly.  I  found  her  wandering 
round  my  garden  in  the  cold,  so  I  brought  her  on 
here  to  apologize  for  her  conduct  to  you  in  my 
house  some  months  ago. 

Lady  P.  (Very  severely.)  I  wish  never  to 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  Trixie.  I'm  sur- 
prised at  her  coming  here. 

Trixie.  (To  Julia.)  There!  What  did  I 
tell  you  ? 

Julia.  Hush !  But  Lady  Pinkney,  she  is 
very  sorry  and  has  come  to  ask  your  forgiveness. 
Trixie 

Trixie.  (In  a  quick  hard  perfunctory  impeni- 
tent tone.)     I  beg  your  pardon. 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  97 

Julia.     No,  Trixic  !     Not  in  that  tone ! 

Trixie.  (A  shade  softer  and  more  penitent.) 
I  beg  your  pardon,  Lady  Pinkney.  (Lady  Pink- 
ney remains  cold  and  severe.)  (Trixie,  after  a 
pause  and  a  little  supplicating  gesture  from  Julia, 
shouts  out  as  if  Lady  Pinkney  were  deaf.)  I 
beg  your  pardon,  Lady  Pinkney  ! 

Julia.     Trixie !     Trixie ! 

Trixie.  Well,  what  can  I  do?  (Tries  an- 
other tone,  says  it  very  quickly,  repeats  it  hur- 
riedly about  ten  times.)  I  beg  your  pardon,  beg 
your  pardon,  beg  your  pardon,  beg  your  pardon, 
beg  your  pardon,  beg  your  pardon,  beg  your  par- 
don, beg  your  pardon,  beg  your  pardon,  beg  your 
pardon,  beg  your  pardon  !     There ! 

Julia.  I'm  sorry,  Lady  Pinkney.  It  is  I  who 
have  to  beg  your  pardon  for  having  brought  a 
rude,  naughty  girl  into  your  house.  Will  you 
please  forgive  me ?  (Turns  to  Trixie.)  Trixie, 
you  might  have  spared  me  this. 

Trixie.  (Turns  to  Lady  Pinkney,  and  in  a 
really  penitent  voice  says)  I'm  very  sorry,  Lady 
Pinkney !  I  beg  your  pardon  !  I  really  mean  it 
this  time  !     Will  you  please  forgive  me  ? 

Lady  P.  (Quietly  kissing  Trixie.)  I  for- 
give you,  Trixie ! 

Enter  Teddy,  upper  door,  right. 
Teddy.     (Surprised  at  seeing  Julia.)     Mrs. 

G 


98  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

Wren !     By    Jove !     How    are    you  ?     (Shaking 
hands.) 

Julia.     How  d'ye  do? 

Teddy.     Delighted  to  see  you  here ! 

Lady  P.  Mrs.  Wren  has  come  on  a  little  mat- 
ter of  business  and 

(Glancing  at  Trixl 

Julia.  Perhaps  Mr.  Pinkney  would  see  Miss 
Blenkinsop  across  to  the  Palace. 

idy.     <  »h  yes — delighted 

Trixie.     Thank  you  very  much.  Mr.  Pinkney. 
I'm  quite  capable  of  taking  care  of  myself — 

tod-bye  everybody. 

Lady  P.  Trixie.  I  can't  allow  you  to  go  alone 
in  the  dark. 

Julia.  Dear  Lady  Pinkney.  as  I  am  unavoid- 
ably responsible  for  Miss  Blenkinsop's  being  here, 
I'll  see  her  to  your  I  _rates,  and  Mr.  Pinkney 

shall  take  care  of  her  from  the  lodge  gates  to  the 
Palace,  eh  ? 

Teddy.     Delighted. 

Julia.     Come  along  then. 

Trixie.  Oh,  very  well.  But  you  know  I'm 
taken  too  much  care  of.  Mine  is  a  nature  that 
demands  perfect  trust  from  those  older  than  my- 
self. All  my  wickedness  comes  from  not  being 
trusted,  and  allowed  to  follow  my  own  healthy 
natural  instincts.  (With  a  sudden  rush  of  affec- 
tion.)    Good-bye,  dear  Lady  Pinkney.     ('Goes  to 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  99 

Lady  Pinkney  and  kisses  her.)     Now,  Teddy. 

(Going  off  left.) 

Teddy.     Delighted — I'm  sure 

(Exeunt  Teddy  and  Trixie.) 
Julia.     I'll  see  them  to  the  lodge  gates. 
Lady  P.     Your  nearest  way  will  be  through 
the  small  hall  and  conservatory 

Julia.  Oh.  I  know  quite  well.  You  forget  I 
used  to  be  a  frequent  visitor  here.      {Exit  left. ) 

Lady  P.  She  seems  to  have  an  extraordinary 
influence  over  Trixie. 

Still.  And  Trixie  seems  very  much  attached 
to  her. 

Lady  P.  When  I  was  at  the  Mount  yesterday 
she  suggested  she  should  take  Trixie  away  with 
her  to  the  seaside  for  Easter,  and  that  Teddy 
should  be  allowed  to  come  there  as  if  by  accident 
under  your  guardianship — or  mine 

Still.  A  very  excellent  plan !  I  should  let 
her  carry  it  out. 

Lady  P.  My  dear  Bill,  the  Blenkinsops  would 
never  permit  it.  Besides,  I'm  under  sufficient 
obligations  to  her  already  in  this  matter  of 
Teddy's.  Xo,  I  must  make  her  some  very  hand- 
some acknowledgment  and  then — it  would  be  a 
great  relief  to  everybody  if  she  would  leave  Shanc- 
tonburv,  eh? 

Still.     I  don't  think  so.     After  what  she  has 


ioo  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  ra 

done  for  you  I  should  Have  thought  you  would 
wish  her  to  stay  near  you 

Lady  P.  Personally,  I  should  be  delighted. 
But  it's  useless  for  her  to  think  of  living  in  Shanc- 
tonbury  unless  she  clears  up  the  puff-box.  I've 
given  her  another  chance  to-night.  We  shall  see 
whether  she  avails  herself  of  it.  Meantime,  what 
acknowledgment  do  you  think — 

Still.  It's  difficult  to  say.  You  are  really 
under  an  enormous  debt  to  her 

Lady  P.  Yes.  we  certainly  owe  her  a  large 
debt  of  gratitude.  What  recognition  do  you 
think  ? 

Still.     A  present  would  be  a  grave  mistake. 

Lady  P.     Why? 

Still.  It  would  look  as  if  you  thought  that 
such  services  as  hers  could  be  bought  and  paid  for. 
No! 

Lady  P.     Well— what? 

Still.  It's  a  dilemma,  but  I  think  I  can  help 
you  out  of  it. 

Lady  P.     How  ? 

Still.  I  don't  think  you  know  how  much 
attached  you  are  to  Airs.  Wren.  And  for  myself 
I  can  truly  say  that  the  more  I  see  of  her  the  more 
admirable  and  charming  in  every  way  does  she 
seem  to  me. 

Lady  P.  (getting  suspicions).     Bill! 

Still.     In  fact   I've  been   thinking  over  the 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  101 

good  advice  you've  been  giving  me  for  years  past 
about  settling  down 

Lady  P.     Bill ! 

Still.  That's  the  best  of  me,  I  do  take  good 
advice.  Not  at  the  time,  perhaps.  Good  advice 
shouldn't  be  taken  too  recklessly,  should  it?  No 
— I  daresay  you've  noticed  that  it  seems  to  roll  off 
me  like  water  off  a  duck's  back,  but  all  the  while, 
Madge,  it's  making  a  deep  impression  on  me — or 
rather  in  me — I'm  taking  it  internally.  I'm  say- 
ing to  myself,  "That  dear  good  sister  of  mine! 
(Fondling  her.)  She's  right  after  all.  These 
racketty  ways  won't  do !  I  must  pull  up  and  be- 
come a  credit  to  myself  and  the  family.  Now 
where  can  I  find  a  woman " 

Lady  P.     (Much  alarmed.)     Bill! 

Still.  Where  can  I  find  a  woman  who  will 
have  the  courage  and  the  kindness  and  the 
patience  to  take  me  as  I  am ;  not  a  raw,  gawky 
school-girl,  but  a  woman  with  some  little  knowl- 
edge of  the  world — a  woman  of  tact  and  gentle- 
ness, and  sweetness,  and  refinement,  a  woman 
who  sums  up  all  the  essential  feminine  graces  in 
her  own  dear  charming  person 

Lady  P.  Bill,  vou're  going  to  marry  Airs. 
Wren ! 

Still.  I'm  a  lucky  beggar,  ain't  I?  You  see 
you  recognized  her  description  in  a  moment ! 
Now  congratulate  me ! 


102  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  ii: 

Lady  P.  Bill,  this  is  too  bad  of  you !  And 
these  last  few  months  you've  led  me  to  think  your 
friendship  with  her  was  practically  broken  off. 

Still.  That  was  my  tact  and  thoughtfulness 
for  you!  I  saw  you  were  worried  about  Teddy, 
so  I  thought  I  would  wait  and  give  you  a  pleasant 
surprise. 

Lady  P.  Surprise!  (Much  upset.)  If  you 
marry  Mrs.  Wren,  it  will  make  Shanctonbury 
quite  impossible  for  me  ! 

\er  Julia,  left,  still  in  her  cloak,  but  with  even- 
ing slippers. 

Julia.  They've  raced  off  to  the  Palace  on  the 
best  of  terms   with   each  other.     I'm   sure   they 

lid  easily  be  led  into  a  real  attachment.      (Coin- 
to  LADY  PlNKNEY.)      Is  anything  the  mat; 

Lady  P.  No.  My  brother  has  just  told  me — 
that 

Still.     She's  naturally  a  little  surprised  to  h< 
of  our  engagement — such  a  dear  tender  sympa- 
thetic creature  she  is 

i  Fondling  Lady  Pixkxey.) 

Julia.  I'm  afraid  the  news  has  not  been  agree- 
able to  you  ? 

Lady  P.     Oh  yes — at  least — oh  yes 

Julia.  Would  you  rather  I  didn't  stay  to- 
night? 

Lady  P.     Yes,  my  dear,  you'd  better  stay  now. 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  103 

And  of  course — I — I — congratulate  you  both,  but 
—  Now,  my  dear  Mrs.  Wren,  my  dear  Julia,  if 
you  are  to  marry  my  brother,  you  must  see  how 
necessary  it  is  to  give  me  some  explanation  of — 
a — the — a — puff-box — eh  ? 

Julia.  Dear  Lady  Pinkney,  have  I  not  always 
said  that  an  explanation  would  be  forthcoming  at 
the  right  moment  ? 

LADY  P.  Well,  dear,  if  this  isn't  the  right 
moment,  when  will  it  be? 

Julia.  I  have  come  prepared  to  give  an  expla- 
nation. 

Lady  P.  (Surprised,  delighted.)  You  have? 
(Drawing  out  watch.)  I've  just  a  few  minutes 
before  I  go  to  dress  for  dinner.  (Scats  herself 
very  determinedly.)     Now,  dear! 

Still.     You  wish  me  to  g 

Julia.  Xo.  Isn't  my  explanation  due  to  you 
rather  than  to  Lady  Pinkney? 

Still.     Pve  never  asked  for  any  explanation — 

Julia.  No — but  if  I  owe  an  explanation  to 
anyone,  surely  it  is  first  to  you?  Don't  you  think 
so.  Lady  Pinkney? 

Lady  P.  By  all  means,  dear.  Then  you 
would  prefer  to  explain  to  Bill  first? 

Julia.     If  you  don't  mind. 

Lady  P.  (rising).  Very  well.  I'll  leave  you 
with  him.  But,  dear,  after  dinner  some  little  ex- 
planation   must    be     forthcoming    to    me — just 


104  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

enough  to  satisfy  the  good  Shanctonbury  people, 
eh? 

(Exit  Lady  Pinkney  upper  door,  right.) 
Julia.     How  did  she  take  the  announcement? 

Still.  She  was  a  little  upset  at  first,  but  she's 
coming  round,  and — don't  you  think  it  would  be 
better  for  us  to — a — satisfy  the  good  Shancton- 
bury people? 

Julia.  I  wonder  what  would  satisfy  the  good 
Shanctonbury  people.     What  would  satisfy  you? 

Still.     Have  I  ever  seemed  curious? 

Julia.     No.     Then  you  are  satisfied? 

Still.  Quite.  Quite.  At  least  if  you  are 
going  to  satisfy  our  good  Shanctonbury  neigh- 
bours— it  would  be  rather  unkind  to  leave  me  out 
in  the  cold,  wouldn't  it? 

Julia.     I  won't  leave  you  out  in  the  cold 

(A  pause.) 

Still.     What  are  you  going  to  do? 

Julia.  I  don't  know.  (Smiling  at  him.)  I 
haven't  made  up  my  ranid.  At  least,  I'm  going 
to  stay  to  dinner,  so  I  may  as  well  take  off  this 
cloak.  (He  helps  her  to  take  off  cloak.)  One 
moment.     WTe  shall  want  this. 

(Taking  a  large  blue  envelope  out  of  her 
cloak  pocket.) 

Still.     What's  that? 

Julia.     That's  a  stout,  trustworthy  envelope 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  105 

which  contains  some  important  documents.     (Put- 
ting it  on  the  tabic.)     We'll  lay  it  there. 

(They  both  sit  dozen,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  table  with  the  envelope  between 
them — a  pause.  They  look  at  each 
other  and  laugh.) 

Still.     Well? 

Julia.     Well? 

Still.     Well  ? 

Julia.     What  ought  I  to  do? 
-     Still.     I  think  you  ought  to— just — say — a — 

Julia.     Say — what  ? 

Still.  Well,  just  enough  to  make  peoples' 
minds  easy  about  you. 

Julia.     Suppose  that  were  difficult? 

Still.     Difficult?! 

Julia.  Suppose — I  only  say  suppose — it  were 
impossible? 

Still.  Then  I  would  leave  the  matter  entirely 
in  your  hands. 

Julia.  You  would  be  satisfied  to  do  that? 
For  now  and  always? 

Still.  Yes,  so  far  as  my  own  happiness  is 
concerned.  Believe  me,  dear,  I  suspect  nothing; 
I  regret  nothing;  I  guess  nothing;  I  know  noth- 
ing. I  don't  even  wish  to  know  if  there  is  any- 
thing to  know. 

Julia.  Will,  I  love  you  a  dozen  times  as  much 
as  I  did  when  we  became  engaged ! 


106  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

Still.     Why,  dear? 

Julia.  Because  you've  never  said  one  word, 
you've  never  thrown  out  the  least  hint  that  didn't 
show  the  most  complete  confidence  in  me. 
There's  nothing  wins  a  woman's  heart  like  that. 
We  love  to  be  trusted,  and  sometimes  we  need  it — 
oh.  so  much ! 

Still.     Do  you  need  it — now  ? 

Julia.  Wry  much — or  not  at  all. — You  shall 
decide. 

Still.     What  <!o  you  mean? 

Julia.  When  Lady  Pinkney's  note  came  invit- 
ing me  to  look  in  half  an  hour  before  dinner,  she 
suggested  that  if  I  didn't  wish  to  speak  of  any 
awkward  matters,  I  might  prefer  to  write  them 
down. 

Still.     And  you  did? 

Julia.  To  be  downright  honest,  I  would  have 
got  out  of  it  if  I  could.  But  as  you  were  going 
to  announce  our  engagement,  I  didn't  see  that  I 
could  very  well  refuse.  So  I  looked  out  two  or 
three  old  letters,  put  them  together  and  wrote  out 
a  plain  unvarnished  statement  of  the  whole  affair. 

Still.  (looking  tozeards  envelope).  There? 
(Julia nods.)     For  her? 

Julia.  Xo — for  you.  (He  half  voluntarily 
stretches  his  hand  tozeards  it,  then  withdraws.) 
Yes.  Take  it.  And — you  are  to  consider  that  we 
are   not    engaged.     You    are    quite    free.     Read 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  107 

over  carefully  what  is  there,  and  then — never  see 
me  again,  or — ask  me  once  more  to  be  your  wife 


Still,  (looking  at  envelope.)  That  contains 
all  the  story 

Julia.     Yes — everything. 

Still.  What  would  be  the  effect  on  the  Shanc- 
tonbury  people? 

Julia.     Read  it — and  judge. 

(Stillingfleet  again  half  stretches  his 
hand  towards  it — and  again  with- 
draws. ) 

Julia.  It  won't  bite  you — at  least  I  don't  think 
it  will.      (Pause.)      Why  don't  you  read  it? 

Still.     Do  you  wish  me? 

Julia.  I  don't  know.  If  you  will  ever  have 
doubts  and  suspicions  of  me,  yes — tear  it  open 
this  moment. 

Still.  But  say  that  I'm  perfectly  satisfied  not 
to  know,  that  whatever  that  envelope  contains  I 
shall  never  be  curious  and  suspicious — that  you 
may  be  quite  sure  of  my  trust  and  love  in  the 
future,  then? 

Julia.  (After  a  moment's  pause.)  Then  I 
would  rather  you  did  not  read  it.  But  are  you 
sure  you  won't  be  curious,  suspicious,  jealous  ? 

Still.  If  I  haven't  shown  myself  so  already, 
why  should  I  in  the  future? 

Julia.     Why  should  you?     Why  should  men 


108  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  hi 

and  women  ever  be  jealous?  I  have  never  asked 
you  a  single  question,  and  yet  I've  heard  whispers, 
sir,  and  more  than  whispers.  I've  heard  enough 
to  send  me  frantic  with  suspicion  and  distrust  of 
you — and  alarm  for  our  future.  I've  a  great 
mind  to  cross-question  you?  Shall  I?  Shall  I 
begin  to  torture  you  and  myself?  Where  would 
that  end?  If  love  is  jealous  at  all,  it  should  be 
jealous  of  the  least  thought,  the  least  imagining; 
every  childish  whim  and  fancy  should  be  brought 
into  the  account ;  we  should  spend  half  our  lives 
holding  inquests  on  the  dreams  and  ghosts  of  our 
dead  caprices.  How  many  rivals  have  I  had? 
How  many  have  I  now — at  this  moment?  I'm 
sure  there  are  a  hundred  of  the  hussies,  aren't 
there?  Tell  me  truly!  No,  don't.  Life  won't 
bear  looking  at.  will  it?  I've  never  really  had  a 
rival,  have  I?  I'm  sure  I  haven't — she  was  only 
a  passing  vision — they  were  all  passing  visions, 
mere  phantoms,  the  whole  army  of  them,  weren't 
they?  And  they've  vanished,  and  I'm  the  flesh 
and  blood  actual  breathing  woman — at  any  rate 
I'm  alive  and  I'm  here — and  I  don't  want  to  know 
any  more,  do  you?     If  you  do — I'll  tell  you. 

Still.     What? 

Julia.  The  whole  truth.  You've  had  quite  a 
million  rivals,  most  of  them  quite  harmless  and 
shapeless — just  little  fugitive  imps,  and  they've 
all  flown  away — except  this  one  here.     (Point- 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  109 

ing  to  the  envelope.)     Why  don't  you  open  it? 
{He  hesitates.)     You'd  better! 

Still.     If  I  open  this 

Julia.     Yes? 

Still.  Forgive  my  asking — these  letters? — 
they  spoke  an  attachment  that  had  something 
sacred  in  it? 

Julia.     Very  sacred  at  the  time. 

Still.     And  now  ? 

Julia.     Quite  dead. 

Still.  But  it  was  sacred.  {He  gives  her 
back  the  envelope.)     I  couldn't  open  it  for  worlds. 

Julia.  I  wish  you  to  open  it  rather  than  you 
should  ever  suspect 

Still.     What? 

Julia.  Anything  that  would  degrade  me  in 
your  eyes.     Yes — open  it. 

Still.     (Hesitates,  then  very  firmly.)     No. 

Julia.     Shall  I  give  it  to  Lady  Pinkney  ? 

Still.     No — that  would  be  worse. 

Julia.     What  shall  I  do  with  it? 

Still.     You  wish  to  keep  these  letters? 

Julia.  No — I  meant  to  destroy  them  to-night 
after  you  had  read  them. 

Still.     Then  I  may? 

(She  nods — he  puts  the  envelope  on  the 
iirc;  they  watch  it  burn.) 

Still.     Cremation  is  best  with  dead  loves  too. 


no  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

Julia.  (When  the  envelope  is  burnt.)  Thank 
you,  dear.  |  He  kisses  her  simply.) 

Still.  We  will  let  the  good  Shanctonbury 
people  say  and  think  what  they  please.  We  will 
say  nothing.     We  understand  each  other. 

(She  gratefully  presses  Iiis  hand,   then 
kisses  it. ) 

Enter  Bevis  left — he  stops  surprised  on   seeing 
Julia,  bows  very  slightly  to  Julia,  zeho  boi 

in  return. 

» 

Bevis.     I — a 


Still.     What's  the  matter? 

Bevis.  Our  cook  has  been  drinking  again,  and 
we've  had  to  send  her  away;  so  we've  come  over 

to  dinner,  but  I  wasn't  aware 

(Glancing  at  Julia — Mrs.  Bevis  enters 
left  in  dinner  dress:  she  also  stops 
surprised  at  seeing  Julia.) 

Bevis.     My  dear  Sophie.  I  think  you'd  better — 

Still.  My  dear  Sophie,  pray  come  in. 
(  Movement  of  remonstrance  front  Bevis.)  Yes, 
my  dear  Bevis.  if  you  please!  (Authoritatively.) 
I  f  you  please !  I  have  an  interesting  announce- 
ment to  make  to  you.  Mrs.  Wren  is  going  to  do 
me  the  honour  to  become  my  wife (Move- 
ment of  alarm  on  the  part  of  Bevis  and  Julia.) 
and  she  is  also  going  to  stay  to  dinner  here  this 
evening.                              (An  azvkzi'ard  pause.) 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  in 

Bevis.     Indeed — I 

Mrs.  B.  I  congratulate  you — I  think  I'll  step 
upstairs  to  Lady  Pinkney.  Bevis,  we  won't  stay 
dinner. 

(Bevis  opens  tipper  door  right  for  her 
She  sweeps  off.) 
Julia.     Perhaps  it  will  be  better  for  me  not 
to  stay. 

(Makes  a  movement  to  take  up  her  cloak.) 
Still,    (arresting  her  movement.)     My  dear 
Julia,  if  anyone  has  to  give  way.  I'm  sure  Bevis 
will  own  that  his  mother's  invited  guest  must  take 
precedence. 

Bevis.     (To  Julia.)     Will  you  allow  me  a 
.  few  moments  with  Mr.  Stillingfleet? 

Julia.     I'm  sure  I'd  better  go — yes,  please. 

Still.  No.  There's  a  fire  in  the  morning 
room.  (Opening  lower  door  right,  looking  in.) 
Yes — step  in  there  for  a  few  moments. 

(Turning  on  an  electric  light  on  the  other 
side  of  the  door.) 

Julia.  (To  Stillingfleet.)  Whatever  hap- 
pens don't  let  me  bring  discord  into  your  family. 

Still.     Oh,  you  shan't! 

(Smiling  her  off.     Exit  Julia  lower  door 
right.) 

Still.     Now,  my  boy 

Bevis.     I  cannot  say  that  I  am  surprised.     Re- 


ii2  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  ih 

membering  certain  incidents  in  your  former 
career 

Still.     My  dear  Bevis,  we  cremated  them. 

Bevis.  I  did  not — as  you  term  it — cremate 
them. 

Still.     (Sharply.)     Well,  I  did. 

Bevis.  After  those  incidents  I  cannot  say  that 
any  action  of  yours  would  cause  me  any  great  sur- 
prise, or  any  great  concern. 

Still.  No?  I  thought  you  showed  just  a 
little  too  much  concern 


Bevis.  On  account  of  our  family,  yes.  On 
account  of  my  dear  mother  and  wife,  yes.  On 
account  of  the  unpleasantness  all  round  that  must 
attend  this  most  ill-advised  step— ves.  But  on 
your  account,  no. 

Still.  Quite  thrown  me  over,  eh?  Quite 
washed  your  hands  of  me  ? 

Bevis.  I  think  you  might  for  once  drop  your 
habit  of  turning  everything  to  a  jest.  Surely  you 
must  see  this  a  serious  moment 

Still.  It  is,  and  if  you  and  your  wife  object  to 
sit  at  table  with  the  lady  who  is  to  be  my  wife,  I 
advise  you  to  hurry  across  to  the  Bishop's  and 
join  their  party  ;  or  order  a  dinner  at  the  Dolphin  ; 
for  (taking  out  watch)  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
whoever  else  may,  or  may  not,  be  dining  here,  I 
assure  you  Mrs.  Wren  and  I  shall. 

Bevis.     I  wasn't  thinking  of  dinner 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  113 

Still.  Well,  I  was.  I've  been  out  with  the 
hounds,  and  I'm  very  glad  it's  your  cook  who  has 
been  misbehaving,  and  not  ours.  Now  shall  we 
let  the  matter  rest? 

Bevis.  I  cannot  allow  the  matter  to  rest.  I 
have  never  felt  so  thoroughly  upset  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life 

Still.     Upset  at  what? 

Bevis.  At  the  most  uncomfortable,  the  most 
painful  prospect  of  Mrs.  Wren  being  introduced 
jnto  our  family.  Now,  my  dear  uncle,  I  do  beg 
you  to  realize  what  you  are  doing — It's  not  yet  too 
late 

Still.  My  dear  Bevis,  it  is  too  late,  even  for 
.sermonizing  about  it. 

Bevis.  But  reflect — What  will  be  the  result  of 
this  most  undesirable  alliance?  What  does  my 
mother  say?  How  am  I  to  regard  it?  Do  you 
intend  to  reside  amongst  us — You  will  find  it  im- 
possible. What  do  you  suppose  will  be  the  effect 
in  Shanctonbury  ? 

Still.  I  hope  I  shall  never  willingly  shock  or 
offend  my  neighbours,  and  you  may  be  sure  that 
my  wife  and  I  shall  do  all  we  can  to  gain  their 
friendship  and  esteem.  But  I  will  allow  neither 
you,  nor  your  mother,  nor  anyone  else,  to  dictate 
to  me  whom  I  shall  marry,  or  where  I  shall  live 
when  I  am  married.  And  when  I  have  chosen  a 
woman  whom  I  love  and  have  given  her  my  name, 

H 


ii4  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  in 

I  hope  you  and  your  Shanctonbury  friends  will 
condescend  at  times  to  recognize  us,  and  occasion- 
ally leave  a  card  upon  us,  or  perhaps  even  to  dine 
with  us.  But  if  you  don't;  if  you  consider  you 
will  be  happier ;  or  more  respectable ;  or  more 
righteous;  or  more  self-righteous;  or  more 
puffed  up  not  to  know  us.  then,  in  Heaven's  name, 
cut  us,  my  dear  boy  !  Cut  us !  Don't  know  us  ! 
God  forbid  that  for  the  pleasure  and  honour 
your  acquaintance.  I  should  selfishly  rob  you  and 
your  neighbours  of  your  good  opinion  of  your- 
selves— Don't  think  so  badly  of  me.  Don't  think 
I'd  strip  one  little  rag  of  your  self-esteem  from 
you.  But,  understand.  Mrs.  Wren  is  to  be  my 
wife:  that's  a  fact — and  you  and  Shanctonbury 
have  got  to  swallow  it ;  whether  or  no  you  swal- 
low us  along  with  it.  And  now,  as  I've  already 
listened  to  what,  coming  from  you,  I  am  willing 
to  call  good  advice,  but  coming  from  anybody  else 
I  should  call  damned  impudence — we  will  please 
drop  this  matter  once  and  for  all. 

Bevis.  (Incensed.)  Very  well.  I  don't  know 
what  mother's  feelings  or  intentions  may  be,  but 
speaking  for  myself  and  my  wife,  and  my  wife's 
family,  I  must  tell  you  frankly  we  shall  not  coun- 
tenance this  marriage ;  we  shall  not  recognize  you 
or  your  wife  in  any  way ;  we  shall  let  all  our 
neighbours  see  plainly  how  we  regard  you,  and  if 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  115 

you  continue  to  reside  in  Shanctonbury,  we  shall 
do  our  utmost  to  mark  our 


Mrs.  Benbow  has  crept  on,  door  left.     Stilling- 
fleet  snatches  Bevis' s  arm  and  arrests  him. 

Mrs.  B.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  intruding — 
(At  the  sound  of  her  voice,  Bevis  just  glances 
round,  unperceived  by  Mrs.  Benbow.  He  shows 
it  fright  and  stands  paralysed  with  terror,  to 
the  surprise  of  Stillingfleet,  who  is  looking  at 
him.) 

Mrs.  B.  (coming  up  to  Stillingfleet,  zvlio 
looks  from  one  to  the  other.)  Oh,  it's  Mr.  Stil- 
lingfleet — How  d'ye  do? 

(Offering  to  shake  hands.) 
Still,     (taking    no    notice    of    her.    watching 
Bevis.)     How  d'ye  do? 

(Bevis  hides  his  face  from  Mrs.  Benbow, 

goes  to  sofa,  and  sits  there  with  face 

averted    from     her,    shivering    with 

fright.) 

Mrs.  B.     I've  sent  up  my  card  to  Lady  Pink- 

ney  with  a  message,  but  instead  of  being  treated 

with  respect,  nobody  takes  any  notice  of  me.     I've 

been  kept  waiting  in  the  hall  for  over  a  quarter  of 

an  hour 

Still,  (looking  from  her  to  Bevis).  What  is 
your  business  with   Lady  Pinkney?     Perhaps   I 


n6  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

might   do  instead,  or    {looking  at  Bevis,  whose 

back  is  turned)  this  is  Lady  Pinkney's  son 

Mrs.  B.  Teddy!  Well,  my  business  is  with 
him  a?  well — (Approaching Bevis.)  No;  it  isn't 
Teddy. 

(Bevis  has  been  sitting  in  an  agony  of 
fright,  his  face  averted;    as  she  ap- 
proaches him,  he  loses  all  self-control, 
and  in  sheer  panic  faces  the  woman.} 
Bevis.     What   do   you    want   with   me?     I've 
paid  you.  haven't  I  ? 

Mrs.  B.     (Surprised.)     Mr.  Gieriton! 
Still.     Gieriton! 

Bevis.  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  you — I 
— a — (Apologetically  to  Stillingfleet,  trying 
to  smile.)     She  must  be  some  impostor! 

Enter  Griggs,  shoii'ing  in  Sam  ways. 

Griggs.  {Announces. )  Mr.  Samways — Oh 
(Seeing  Mrs.  Bexbow.)  I  beg  pardon,  sir.  I 
told  that  person  to  wait  in  the  hall 

Still.     Never  mind,  Griggs,  I'll  see  to  her. 

(Exit  Griggs.) 

Sam  ways.  (Has  come  up  to  Mrs.  Benbow.) 
Hillo!     What's  the  meaning  of  this? 

Bevis.  (To  Samways.)  One  moment,  Sam- 
ways. 

(Draws  Samways  aside  and  is  seen  to 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  117 

talk  to  him  very  eagerly  with  refer- 
ence in  gesture  to  Mrs.  Benbow.) 

Still.  (To  Mrs.  Benbow.)  What's  your 
business  with  Lady  Pinkney? 

Mrs.  B.  (glancing  round  nervously  at  Sam- 
ways).  Well,  I've  come  about  the  letters  that 
have  been  stolen  from  me  by  her  connivance.  Of 
course  I  don't  wish  in  any  way  to  make  myself 
obnoxious,  or  cantankerous — unless  I'm  forced  so 
to  do — but  if  I  was  forced  to  make  myself 
obnoxious  or  cantankerous,  well — it  would  be 
painful  for  me,  and  painful  for  you,  and  painful 
for  Lady  Pinkney,  so  I  hope  it  won't  be  necessary 
for  me  to  take  that  step. 

Samways  {having  listened  to  Bevis).  All 
right.  Leave  it  to  me.  (To  Stillingfleet.) 
Is  the  library  free  ? 

Still.     Yes,  I  think. 

Samways.  {Very  sharply  to  Mrs.  Benbow.) 
Come  this  way ! 

Mrs.  B.     Eh? 

Samways.  Come  this  way !  Now !  Quick ! 
Unless  I  am  to  take  means 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  there's  no  necessity  to  use  vio- 
lence to  a  lady.  (As  she  is  going  off,  left,  she 
turns  and  looks  at  Bevis,  who  is  still  shivering 
with  fright.)     Mr.  Cheriton  ! 

(Samways  peremptorily  points  her  off. 
Exit  Mrs.  Benbow,  left,  followed  by 


n8  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  act  hi 

Sam  ways.  Bevis  follozvs  them  tip 
fearfully,  looking  after  them.) 

Still.     Old  acquaintance  of  yours  ? 

Bevis.  No — at  least — {Trying  to  put  a  good 
face  on  it.)  Perhaps  you  think  that  this  affair 
requires  an  explanation 

Still.     Xot  a  bit,  my  dear  lad.     If  you're  in  a 

mess,  take  my  advice;  don't  explain  to  anybody 

'.   you  U"t  there,  but  quietly  pick  yourself  out 

of  it,  wipe  your  boots,  and  say  no  more  about  it. 

Now,  can  I  lend  you  a  helping  hand?, 

Bevis.     In  what  way?     I'm  not  in  any  mess. 

Still.     I'm  glad  to  hear  it. 

Bevis.  Whenever  my  past  actions  and  motives 
are  examined,  I  shall  have  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of. 

Still.  I'm  sure  you  won't.  I'm  sure  we  shall 
learn  a  great  deal  that  will  redound  to  your  credit. 

BEVIS.     I  don't  say  that 

Still.  Ah.  that's  your  modesty.  Now  I'm 
quite  sure  you've  befriended  that  poor  dear  old 
lady  in  some  way,  and  you  stand  here  shaking 
with  fright  lest  your  good  actions  should  become 
known,  and  blazed  abroad  in  Shanctonbury,  so 
that  the  Blenkinsops  and  all  your  other  friends 
should  get  to  know  of  them.  (Shaking  Bevis 
good-hii)nouredIy.)     Isn't  that  it,  eh? 

Bevis.  (Ghastly  with  fright.)  Uncle— I'll 
tell  vou  all. 


act  in  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  119 

Still.     My  dear  "Bevis,  I  don't  wish  to  know. 

Bevis.  Yes,  I'd  better  tell  yon — In  case  any 
garbled  account  of  this  should  become  public. 
My  only  wish  is  to  spare  my  dear  mother  and  wife 
the  pain  of  hearing  anything  that  would  destroy 
their  ideal  of  me. 

Still.  That's  very  thoughtful  of  you — all  for 
the  sake  of  others. 

Bevis.  It's  not  very  bad  after  all — but  you  see 
I've  tried  to  set  a  very  high  standard — for  the  sake 
of  other  people 

Still.  All  for  the  sake  of  others.  Well,  of 
course,  if  you  set  up  a  very  high  standard  for  other 
people  and  make  them  conform  to  it,  that  surely 
gives  you  the  right  to  exercise  a  great  deal  of  dis- 
cretion in  your  own  private  actions ;  for  instance, 
say  your  high  standard  forces  ten  of  your  neigh- 
bours to  be  moral,  and  you  are  immoral  yourself, 
the  net  result  is  that  you  have  benefited  public 
morality  to  the  extent  of  nine,  eh?     Isn't  that  so? 

Bevis.     (Inclined   to   assent.)     Well — a — I — 

Still.  Now  I'm  sure  you've  benefited  moral- 
ity in  that  way,  haven't  you?  Confess!  You're 
looking-  a  little  white  still 


'£> 


Bevis.  (Still  ghastly.)  It's  nothing — I  hope 
Samways  won't  be  long — the  woman  has  no  pos- 
sible claim  on  me. 

Still.     No? 

Bevis.     Not  morally, 


120  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  hi 

Still.     Xo — not  morally. 

Bevis.  When  I  was  at  Oxford,  I  was  betrayed 
into  a  very  undesirable  friendship — really  be- 
trayed into  it 

Still.  My  boy,  I  sympathize  with  you.  I've 
been  betrayed  myself — so  many  times.     Go  on. 

Bevis.  But  I  summoned  all  my  resolution,  and 
1  wry  soon  conquered 

Still.  (Claps  lii)ii  on  the  shoulder.)  Brave 
boy!  Dear  boy!  I  don't  wonder  that  you  want 
to  make  it  hot  for  other  people.  Brave  boy ! 
Go  on  ! 

Bevis.  I  conquered,  and  got  them  out  of  the 
country  to  Australia,  by  payment  of  a  consider- 
able sum.  That's  really  all.  T  was  extremely 
upset  in  the  summer  to  find  the  mother  and 
daughter  at  our  curates'  fete  here  in  Shancton- 
bury.  I  can't  imagine  what  they  were  doing  here. 
I  told  Samways  the  outline  of  the  story  then.  I 
•  he  will  come  to  some  arrangement  with  her. 
(Looking  anxiously  at  door.)  Uncle,  you  won't 
misunderstand  me? 

Still.     How? 

Bevis.  At  first  sight  I  may  appear  to  be  a 
hypocrite. 

Still.     Oh,  not  at  all.     Oh  no! 

Bevis.  No,  I'm  really  not  a  hypocrite.  It  was 
the  realization  of  the  wickedness  of  my  own  con- 
duct that  has  led  me  to  be  so  strict  with  others — 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  121 

Still.     Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure. 
Bevis.     I've    been    quite    consistent   through- 
out  

Still.  I'm  sure  you  have.  And  I'm  sure  if 
I  were  to  give  you  an  explanation  of  your  own 
conduct,  you  wouldn't  understand  me. 

Bevis.     Not  understand  you  ? 
Still.     If  I  were  to  show  you  your  own  por- 
trait, you  wouldn't  recognize  it ! 

Bevis.     How  not  recognize  it  ? 

Still.  You've  worn  this  mask  so  long,  you 
don't  know  your  own  features.  Do  you  ever  look 
at  yourself?  Do  you  ever  question  your  own 
heart?  (Very  tenderly.)  My  lad,  knowing 
what  you  do  of  your  own  life,  how  could  you 
breathe  one  word  against  another?  How  could 
you  lift  up  the  smallest  pebble  to  stone  your  neigh- 
bours? Ah.  that's  right!  Look  within  for  one 
moment,  and  resolve  for  the  future  to  have  done 
with  this  dry  rot  of  making  other  people  virtuous  ! 
Here  sits  the  one  and  only  rascal  you've  got  to 
reform!  (Shaking  Bevis  zigorously.) 

Bevis.  I  can  see  now  that  I  have  been  too 
severe. 

Still.  Say  no  more.  So  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, it's  past.  But  there  is  someone  who  is 
very  dear  to  me,  and  whom  I  wish  to  preserve 
from  pain  and  slander 


122  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  hi 

Bevis.  Mrs.  Wren  ?  I  fear  I  have  been  very 
much  mistaken  in  my  estimate  of  Mrs.  Wren. 

Still.  You  have  been  very  much  mistaken. 
You  will  please  let  that  be  known ? 

Bevis.  Oh  yes.  I'll  explain  to  my  wife,  and  in 
fact  to  everybody 

Still.  Yes,  do,  do — you're  good  at  explana- 
tions. And  I've  no  doubt  after  your  explanation 
Mrs.  Wren  will  be  received  in  Shanctonbury  ? 

Bevis.  Well,  we  shall  receive  her  ourselves, 
and  if  she  is  received  by  us  I  don't  think  you  need 
have  any  doubt 

Still.  Then  I'll  leave  all  the  explaining  to 
you.  Now  we  shall  have  quite  a  pleasant  family 
dinner  party 

Bevis.     Yes — if  Samways 


(Looking  anxiously  at  door  left.) 

Enter  Samways,  left. 

Samways  (rubbing  his  hands.)  That's  set- 
tled ! 

Bevis.     Settled  ? 

Samways.  The  lady  leaves  Shanctonbury  to- 
morrow and  we  shall  have  no  further  trouble  with 
her.  (To  Bevis.)  Your  friend  Brown  need 
have  no  further  anxiety. 

Bevis.     Thank  you  so  much. 

Enter  Julia,  lower  door  right. 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  123 

Bevis.  {Advances  cordially  to  her.)  My 
dear  Mrs.  Wren,  I  very  much  regret  there  has 
been  any  misunderstanding  between  us,  and  I  hope 
we  shall  be  good  friends  in  the  future.  (Offer- 
ing hand.) 

Julia.  (Nonplussed.)  I  shall  be  delighted 
(Shaking  hands)  but — (Looks  bewildered  to 
Stillixgfleet  for  an  explanation ;  he  nods  and 
smiles)  very  delighted — (Shakes  hands  again  cor- 
dially, again  turns  to  Stillixgfleet  for  an  expla- 
nation.) 

Re-enter  Lady  Pixkxey,  looking  very  much  wor- 
ried, upper  door  right,  in  evening  dress,  fol- 
lowed by  Mrs.  Bevis. 

Mrs.  Bevis.  Now,  Bevis,  we  will  dine  at  the 
Palace — 

Bevis.  No,  my  dear.  Uncle  William  has  ex- 
plained everything  to  me  most  satisfactorily,  and 
for  my  part  I  shall  be  delighted  to  stay  here  and 

dine  with  my  mother  and  Mrs.  Wren 

(Lady  Pixkxey  and  Mrs.  Bevis  show 
great  astonishment.) 

Mrs.  Bevis.     I  don't  understand 

Bevis.  May  I  present  you  to  Mrs.  Wren? 
(Mrs.  Bevis  looks  astounded.)  You  may  be 
quite  sure,  my  dear,  that  I  have  thoroughly  satis- 
fied myself. 


124  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  act  hi 

(Julia   keeps  on   turning  to   Stilling- 
fleet  with  a  look  of  inquiring  bewil- 
derment. ) 
Bevis.     (To  Mrs.  Bevis.  zdio  still  shows  so)ne 
rchictancc  to   make  Julia's  acquaintance.)     I'll 
explain  everything  to  you  by-and-by.     Meantime 
(presenting)  my  wife — Mrs.  Wren! 

(Mrs.    Bevis   and   Julia    boze   to   each 
other,  i 

Lady  P.     (Astonished.)     Bevis  1 

(Draws  him  aside.     Bevis  is  seen  to  be 
explaining  something  m  dumb  shozi'  to 
Lady  Pinkney.) 
Mrs.  Bevis.     Mr.  Samways. 

(Goes  t<<  Samways  and  is  seen  to  be  ques- 
tioning him.) 
Julia.      (Full  of  curiosity:  beckons  to  Stil- 
lingfleet.  draws  him  down  stage  away  from  the 
others.)     Do  tell  me!     What  have  you  explained 
to  him  about  me? 

Still,  (glancing  cautiously  round  at  the  other 
couples,  whispers.)     Nothing! 
Julia.     (Surprised.)     Nothing? 
Still.      (Same  caution,  same  whisper.)     Be- 
lieve me.  my  dear  Julia,  there  wasn't,  there  isn't 
and  there  never  will  be  anything  to  explain  ! 

(Presses  her  hand.) 

Enter,  left,  Trixie  followed  by  Teddy,  both  in 


act  in  WHITEWASHING  JULIA  125 

evening  dress.     The   three  couples  disengage 
themselves. 

Teddy.  (A  little  bashfully.)  I've  brought 
Miss  Blenkinsop  back  to  dinner 

Lady  P.     My  dear  Trixie !     I'm  delighted. 

Teddy.     What's  going  on?  eh,  Bevis? 

Bevis.  Nothing,  Teddy! — Nothing!  a  little 
family  party — that's  all ! 

Enter  Griggs,  left. 

Griggs.  Dinner  is  served,  my  Lady.  (Exit 
Griggs.) 

Lady  P.  Teddy,  will  you  take  Miss  Blenkin- 
sop?    Mr.    Samways    (indicating),   Mrs.   Bevis. 

Bevis,  you'd  like  to  take  in  Mrs.  Wren.     Bill 

(Calling  him  to  her.    The  couples  arrange 
themselves,     the     men     giving    their 
arms.) 
Still.     There!     What  did  I  always  tell  you? 
Now  are  you  satisfied  ? 

Lady  P.  Oh,  if  Bevis  is  satisfied,  I  am  more 
than  satisfied !  (Bevis  is  taking  Julia  past  Lady 
Pinkney  as  she  speaks;  Lady  Pixkxey  stops 
her  and  kisses  her.)  Then  everything  is  ex- 
plained ? 

Still.     Everything ! 

(Takes  Julia's  hand  as  she  passes  him 
and  kisses  it.  Gives  his  arm  to  Lady 
Pixkxey.) 


. 


(Owing  to  the  difficulty  of  striking  and  setting  the  scene, 
the  Epilogue  is  omitted  in  representation.) 


EPILOGUE 


Seventeen  months  ".'tween  Act  III.  and  the 

Epilogue. 


Additional  characters  in  the  Epilogue: 

Mr.  Elkixgton. 

The  Mayor  of  Shaxctonbcry,  etc. 


r26 


THE  EPILOGUE 

Scene — The  Refreshment  Tent  in  the  grounds  of  the 
Bishop's  Palace  at  Shanctonbury  on  the  day  of  the 
annual  bazaar  and  fete  in  aid  of  the  curates'  fund.  Two 
years  later  than  the  first  act.  The  tent  is  the  same  in 
construction,  with  the  recessed  opening  at  back,  and  the 
opening  on  the  left  side.  The  counter  is  now  set  along 
the  back  and  is  handsomely  draped.  The  refreshments 
present  a  great  contrast  to  the  meagre  supply  of  the  first 
act.  There  are  large  heaped  plates  of  strawberries  and 
other  fruits;  sandwiches,  sweets  and  other  dainty  little 
dishes,  interspersed  with  handsome  bouquets  of  cut 
flowers.  Seats  and  stools  in  front  of  counter.  Down 
stage,  right  centre,  a  small  table  with  refreshments,  at 
which  is  seated  Samways  with  a  large  glass  of  mineral 
water  in  front  of  him  ;  he  is  smoking  a  cigarette  and 
looking  over  a  legal  document.  At  times  he  turns  and 
listens  to  the  conversation  and  shows  great  interest 
therein,  punctuating  the  remarks  with  appropriate  ges- 
tures, nods,  etc.,  expressive  of  his  own  opinion  on  the 
subject. 

Beside  the  refreshment  counter  are  discovered  Julia, 
in  a  very  pretty  afternoon  toilet,  and  Stillingfleet  ; 
she  is  serving  the  refreshments  and  he  is  helping  her. 
In  front  of  the  counter  are  Mrs.  Chaytor,  Mrs.  Bevis, 
Miss  Fewings  and  Bevis.    Meade  and  Charlie  Dobbs 

127 


128  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  En. 

are  assisting  Julia  and  Stillingfleet  in  the  cleaning 
plates,  etc.,  in  respective  corners  of  the  tent. 

As  curtain  goes  up  the  scene  is  very  animated,  and 
all  the  six  people  at  the  counter  are  chattering  and 
laughing  together.     A  band  is  playing  in  the  distance. 

Miss  F.  (To  Julia.)  My  dear  Mrs.  Still- 
ingfleet, what  delicious  tea  you  always  provide! 

Mrs.  Bevis.  Yes,  Julia,  I  must  congratulate 
you  on  the  charming  way  in  which  you  have  done 
the  refreshments 

Julia  (glancing  mischievously  fit  Stilling- 
fleet). We  heard  that  there  had  been  grave 
complaints  about  the  refreshments  in  former 
years,  so  I  determined  to  run  it  on  different  lines. 

Mrs.  C.  Oh,  Julia.  Sir  William  Butser,  the 
great  South  American  geologist,  insists  on  meet- 
ing you  at  dinner  one  night.  Can  you  make  it 
next  week? 

JULIA,  I  don't  think  I  can — can  I,  Will? 
We're  full  up  every  night. 

Mrs.  Bevis.  Julia,  you  won't  forget  the  meet- 
ing on  Thursday — I  have  a  special  message  for 
you  from  papa — he  won't  make  an  effort  to  con- 
quer his  gout  unless  he's  quite  sure  you'll  be  there. 

Julia.  Tell  the  dear  Bishop  I'm  sure  to  be 
there  to  support  him. 

Still.     Julia,  don't  forget  Mrs.  Galer. 

Julia.     Oh,  I'd  forgotten.     Charlie! 


epi.  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  129 

Charlie.  (Charlie  in  smart  page's  costume 
steps  forward.)     Yes,  ma'am. 

Julia  (selecting  a  very  choice  dish  of  strawber- 
ries). Take  this  to  Mrs.  Galer  and  say  that  Mrs. 
Stillingfleet  has  sent  them,  and  hopes  that  she  and 
the  new  baby  are  going  on  well. 

Charlie.  (Takes  the  dish  of  strawberries.) 
Yes,  ma'am.  (Exit  Charlie  at  back.) 

Julia.     Poor  Mrs.  Galer  !     Pier  tenth  ! 

Still.  What  a  knack  some  people  have  of 
repeating  the  worst  mistakes  of  their  youth! 

Bevis.  How  much  better  it  is  to  be  guided  by 
the  experience  gained  from  our  past  follies ! 

Still.  How  much  better  still  never  to  commit 
any  folly  at  all ;  to  be  always  wise  and  judicious 
like  you.  eh.  Bevis?        {Giving  him  a  nudge.) 

Bevis.  I  can't  say  I  have  never  committed  any 
folly  or  mistake 

Still.     Oh,  I  think  you  might 

Bevis.  But  I  can  honestly  say  that  my  past 
mistakes  have  really  improved  my  character. 

Still.  Ah,  now,  there's  the  danger  with  a 
character  like  yours.  You'll  go  on  improving  it 
until  it  becomes  a  standing  menace  to  all  your 
neighbours. — For  the  sake  of  us  poor  every-day 
sinners  don't — don't  improve  your  character  any 
further. 

Bevis.  (Plaintively,  noticing  that  Stilling- 
fleet  and  Sam  ways  are  chuckling  at  him.)     I 

1 


130  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  epi. 

wish  you  wouldn't  jest  about  these  things.  (Tak- 
ing out  watch.)  It's  half-past  four  !  My  brother 
and  his  wife  ought  to  be  here. 

Julia.  Hasn't  anybody  gone  to  the  station  to 
meet  them  ? 

Bevis.  Oh  yes,  Lord  and  Lady  Pinkney  and 
the  Blenkinsonps — Oh!  (A  peal  of  bells  ringing 
out.)     They  have  arrived! 

Mrs.  Chay.  (looking  off).  Yes,  there  they 
are!     They're  just  getting  out  of  the  carriage! 

Mrs.  Bevis.  How  very  brown  and  well  Trixie 
looks. 

Miss  F.  And  so  does  Mr.  Pinkney,  doesn't 
he  ?     We  must  go  and  congratulate  them. 

(Exit  Miss  Fewings  and  Mrs.  Bevis.) 

Mrs.  C.     Aren't  you  coming,  Julia? 

Julia.  In  a  moment — as  soon  as  I  can  leave 
my  stall.  (Exit  Mrs.  Chaytor.) 

Still.  Come  along,  Bevis — we'll  go  and  wel- 
come the  happy  couple. 

Bevis.  Yes,  I  believe  marriage  will  really  im- 
prove Teddy. 

Still.  Ah !  But  he'll  never  come  up  to  your 
standard. 

(Exit  Stillingfleet  left.  Julia  and 
Meade  arc  occupied  at  back.  Julia 
sends  off  Meade.) 

Bevis.  (Is  following  Stillingfleet  off,  re- 
turns to  Sam  ways.)     In  spite  of  my  uncle's  un- 


epi.  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  131 

seemly  ridicule,  I'm  sure  you  don't  misunder- 
stand my  character,  Samways.  (Samways  cor- 
dially grasps  him  by  the  hand.)  That  little  mis- 
take of  mine  has  really  improved  me,  I  think? 
(Samways  again  cordially  grasps  his  hand.) 
Bevis.     Thank  you. 

(Shaking  hands.     Exit  left.) 

Enter  Lady  Pinkney  at  back. 

Lady  P.  Ah,  Julia.  Teddy  and  Trixie  have 
returned,  and,  of  course,  you  were  the  first  friend 
whom  they  asked  for. 

Julia.  I'll  run  over  to  them.  Will  you  look 
after  my  stall  for  a  moment  ? 

Lady  P.  Certainly.  Ah,  my  dear  Julia — 
(Beginning  to  cry  a  little.)  When  I  remember 
that  I  owe  all  my  happiness  to  you 

Julia.     No,  dear  Lady  Pinkney 

Lady  P.  Yes,  dear.  It's  you  who  have 
brought  about  this  happy  marriage — (Crying  a 
little. )     I  can  never  repay  you  ! 

Julia.  Don't  mention  it.  I  owe  quite  as 
much  to  you  for  having  cleared  me  of  all  that 
wretched  slander. 

(Kisses  Lady  Pinkney  and  exit.) 

Samways.  (Jumps  up  from  his  table.)  And 
I  must  go  and  pay  my  respects  to  the  bride  and 
bridegroom. 

Lady  P.     I  hear  vou  have  let  The  Elms 


132  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  epl 

Samways.     Yes — to  a  Mr.  Elkinsrton.     Ah! 


'&' 


Mr.  Elkixgtox  enters  left,  a  very  staid,  sober, 
solid,  stolid,  res  pee  table  upper  middle-class  Eng- 
lishman about  fifty. 

Mr.  E.     You  have  prepared  the  lease? 

Samways.  Yes,  I  brought  it  with  me  as  time 
presses. 

Mr.  P..  Thank  you.  Now  there  is  just  that 
one  little  question  to  be  considered 

Sam \v.\-  i  h  yes — perhaps  I'd  better  intro- 
duce you  to  Lady  Pinkney.  Lady  Pinkney,  may 
I  present  Mr.  Elkington,  who  has  taken  The 
Elms? 

Lady  P.     How  d'ye  do? 

Mr.  E.     How  d'ye  do? 

! .  \:>v  P.  I'm  pleased  to  find  we  shall  have  you 
a  neighbour 

Mr.  E.  Yes — it  is  almost  settled — but — 
(Hesitating.)  there  is  one  rather  delicate  matter 


Lady  P.     Yes 

Mr.  E.  If  we  take  The  Elms,  our  only  near 
neighbours  will  be  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stillingfleet  at 
the  Mount 

Lady  P.     Yes 


Mr.  E.     (Embarrassed.)     Could  I  have  a  cup 
of  tea? 


epl  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  133 

Lady  P.  By  all  means.  Do  you  like  it  strong 
or  weak  ? 

Mr.  E.  Medium — quite  medium.  Mrs.  Stil- 
Hncrfleet 


Lady  P.     Yes- 


Mr.  E.     You  will  excuse  my  broaching  this — 

{Glancing  at  Sam  ways.) 

Sam  ways  (coming  to  the  rescue).  Mr.  Elk- 
ington  has  heard  of  those  silly  rumours 

Lady  P.  Oh — is  that  all?  Now.  my  dear  Mr. 
Elkington,  ask  me  any  question  you  please  about 
Mrs.  Stillingtleet — I  shall  be  delighted  to  answer. 

(Handing  cup  of  tea.) 

Mr.  E.  Thank  you.  No  sugar,  thank  you. 
A  little  more  milk — thank  you.  My  wife  is 
anxious  to  know 

Lady  P.     Mrs.  Elkington  is  not  with  you? 

Mr.  E.  No — she  is  suffering  from  an  obscure 
form  of  gouty  dyspepsia,  which  disables  her  for 
:he  moment.  But  her  mind  is  unusually  active. 
My  wife,  I  may  mention,  is  the  only  daughter  of 
Mr.  Beecher-Sprowston 

Lady   P.     Beecher-Sprowston  ? 

Mr.  E.  The  eminent  philanthropist  who  had 
all  his  windows  smashed  on  account  of  his  ad- 
vanced morality 

Lady  P.  I  understood  it  was  because  he  said 
something  in  public  that  reflected  on  a  lady ■ 

Mr.  E.     Yes,  it's  the  same  thing.     He  was  a 


134  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  epl 

little  violent  in  his  methods,  but  he  was  a  true  re- 
former. And  being  the  daughter  of  Beecher- 
Sprowston  my  wife  is  naturally  anxious  about  our 
neighbours  at  the  Mount. 

Lady  P.    Well? 

Mr.  E.  Was  Mrs.  Wren  married — there  was 
a  foreign  Royal  Duke 

Lady  P.  The  Duke  of  Savona.  Oh  yes — it 
was  a  morganatic  marriage. 

Mr.  E.     Indeed! 

Lady  P.  Not  a  formal  morganatic  marriage, 
but  something  quite  equivalent  to  it. 

Mr.  E.  Oh!  I'm  very  glad  to  hear  that  she 
was  really  married  to  the  Duke. 

Lady  P.  Oh  yes.  We  inquired  thoroughly 
into  the  whole  matter.  Of  course  the  law  relat- 
ing to  morganatic  marriages  is  in  a  perfect  chaos, 
isn't  it?  (Appealing  to  Sam  ways.) 

Sam  ways.  Shocking!  Shocking!  Somebody 
will  have  to  take  it  in  hand  and  unravel  it ! 

Mr.  E.     And  this  morganatic  marriage? 

Lady  P.  Mrs.  Wren  never  went  out  of  her 
way  to  prove  her  rights  in  a  court  of  law — that 
would  have  been  undignified. 

Sam  ways.     Most  undignified! 

Lady  P.  She  rather  allowed  people  to  hint  and 
gossip  and  sneer.  (To  Sam  ways.)  Perhaps 
she  ought  to  have  asserted  her  claim  ? 


epi.  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  13S 

Samways.  Well — you  see — the  law  being  as 
it  is 

Lady  P.  Yes,  she  acted  wisely  in  keeping 
silence.  Oh,  she  behaved  admirably  throughout 
— Though  she  had  great  provocation.  The 
Duchess  of  Savona  was  a  very  disagreeable  per- 
son— her  treatment  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with 
the  poor  Duke's  early  end. 

Mr.  E.  Indeed!  I  thought  he  died  of  Ger- 
man measles. 

Lady  P.  Accelerated  by  his  wife's  treatment. 
German  measles  alone  would  never  have  taken 
off  a  fine  handsome  man  like  that.  Oh,  no! 
You  may  assure  Mrs.  Elkington  that  you  will 
have  most  delightful  neighbours  at  the  Mount. 
Mrs.  Stillingfleet  is,  as  she  has  always  been,  above 
reproach  in  every  way.  And  Mr.  Stillingfleet  is 
of  course  my  brother. 

Mr.  E.  Your  brother  ? !  Pray  forgive  me.  I 
had  no  idea 

Lady  P.  Oh,  I'm  very  glad  to  have  reassured 
you  about  our  dear  Julia. 

Mr.  E.  (To  Sam  ways.)  You  should  have 
told  me  that  Mr.  Stillingfleet  was  Lady  Pinkney's 
brother ! 

Sam  ways.     I  thought  you  knew  it! 

Lady  P.  (looking  off).  Here  are  my  newly 
married  son  and  daughter —  (Looking  off.) 
They  have  just  returned  from  their  honeymoon. 


136  WHITEWASHING   JULIA  epi. 

Mr.  E.  (Very  inquisitively  and  mysteriously 
to  Sam  ways.  )  But  wasn't  there  some  story 
about  a  puff-box  ? 

Sam  ways.     Hush!     The     puff-box     was     a 
myth  !     A  pure  myth  !     A  slander  ! 

Mr.  E.  Was  it?  What  a  dreadful  world  we 
live  in  !     How  full  of  scandal ! 

Enter,  left,  Trixie  and  Teddy  in  travelling  dress, 
very  lovingly,  followed  by  Bevis  and  Mrs. 
Bevis,  Mrs.  Chaytor,  Miss  Fewings,  the 
Mayor  of  Siianctonbury  in  *robes,  and  a 
croud  of  others. 

Enter  at  back  Julia  and  Stillingfleet. 

(They  all  begin  chattering  and  clamour- 
ing for  tea.  Band  and  urdding  bells 
outside.) 


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